What's to Happen All Happened Before
by Darling Pretty
Summary: "Clearly my lessons did not stick in your head the first time, Jane Banks. I'll stay until the wind changes." Some years later, Mary Poppins returns to 17 Cherry Tree Lane. Mary/Bert
1. Wind's In The East, Mist Coming In

**Hi! I am definitely not new to the site, but this is my first foray into the realm of Mary Poppins. I just recently saw the musical and it rekindled my love of the movie (that I've seen upwards of 20 times). I really hope you enjoy this and I really hope I'm managing these characterizations. I don't want anything to be entirely out of character! And, of course, it's Mary/Bert, because... well, because I said so!**

**The first part is sort of a flashback to when Mary Poppins leaves the Banks' house, and I kind of was, let's say _inspired_ by a scene from the musical (I'm sure you can figure out which one, if you've seen it). **

**Unfortunately, I own nothing but the idea and the computer it was typed on.**

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><p>"<em>Goodbye, Bert," she says, a trace of sadness lurking behind the always prim demeanor.<em>

"_They'll miss you, you know, Mary Poppins," he points out, the cockney accent pervasive._

_She shakes her head. "They don't need me anymore, Bert. It's how it should be."_

"_Ever wonder, Mary, if how it should _be _isn't how it should _end up_?"_

"_I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about," she sniffs, trying for her normal, haughty tone but only managing mildly curious._

"_If you ask me, you know exactly what I'm talking about and you just won't admit it."_

_She sighs. "The wind has changed, Bert. I only stay-"_

"_Until the wind changes," he finishes. "Will the wind ever stop blowing, Mary?"_

"_I- I don't know," she admits, stumbling a little when she sees just the faintest bit of frustration—completely out of character for the always congenial Bert—hidden behind a calm face. "Practically perfect people do not stay in one place, Bert. My task here is complete. I _am_ sorry that it did not take me longer, but the wind has changed and it's time for me to leave. Jane and Michael don't need me anymore and in three weeks, they shall hardly miss me at all."_

_She turns to gather her things but he gently grabs her wrist. "I'll miss you, Miss Mary Poppins," he confesses._

"_Oh, Bert," she sighs, placing a gloved hand on his cheek briefly. "If ever there were a truer friend in the world…"_

"_I guess the truest friend in the world wouldn't ask you to stay."_

_She smiles sadly. "He wouldn't." She leans in and places a soft kiss on his cheek, allowing her face to linger next to his just long enough for her eyes to flutter closed momentarily. "Au revoir, Bert. Until we meet again."_

_She picks up her carpet bag and opens her umbrella, allowing the winds to take her where they may._

_He stares after her before picking up his brooms and continuing on his way, singing a few bars of a familiar song, only with new lyrics, "Chim-chiminee, chim-chiminee, chim-chim-cheroo, wonder if I'll ever say I do love you…"_

0ooo0

"No! No. I won't. I won't. I won't!" For someone Mary Poppins had left "practically perfect," Jane Banks certainly throws a lovely temper tantrum. Then again, these days, everything Jane does is lovely. The years had certainly been kind to young Jane; she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman of eighteen in the years since Mary Poppins had left her locket. A beautiful young woman and an unqualified brat.

Winifred Banks sighs, knowing that there's no point in arguing with that pout. Once upon a time, a simple stare from Mary Poppins, communicating intolerance and condescension for such a pedestrian thing as a temper tantrum, would have been enough to banish that stubborn look from the girl's face. It has been years since Mary Poppins gave any such glance and Jane has long since forgotten the power.

"But, Jane, dear, it's simply _time _to think about it!"

"I don't want to! I want to go to _school_. I don't want to get married!"

"No one said you have to get married right away, dear!"

"I don't care! I don't want to marry."

"I suppose you could train to be a governess," Winifred suggests tiredly.

"I _won't _spend my days looking after snot-nosed brats!"

"Jane!" Mrs. Banks exclaims.

"_Michael _gets to go to school," Jane sniffs.

"_Michael _wouldn't spend the whole time mooning after boys," Michael Banks cuts in. He has _not _changed since Mary Poppins left, not really. He's still a little caustic, a little silly, and he still just wants to fly kites and stare at the skies.

"Because you're too busy mooning after the moon," Jane sneers. "Life happens on the ground, Michael. Not up in the clouds."

"I don't understand why you "moon" over boys in school, but won't hear of courting," Winifred sighs.

"I will _not _be forced into making small talk with dull, boring suitors you and Father pick out for me!"

"Dull and boring are synonyms," Michael points out absent-mindedly as the bell rings, signaling a visitor.

"We'll discuss it later," Mrs. Banks says, trying to hide the scene before the person at the door is granted admittance.

"No, we will _not_!" Jane insists, her voice rising shrilly. "And you can't make me do anything I don't want to do!" she cries, stamping her foot.

"Jane Banks, is that any way to talk to your mother? Did you learn _nothing _from me?" a stern and familiar voice rings out. Everyone turns to find Mary Poppins standing calmly in the doorway, looking as ageless as ever. Mary allows them a moment to soak in her return before ordering, "Close your mouth, please, Michael. We are not a codfish."

Michael's mouth snaps shut.

"Mary Poppins!" Mrs. Banks exclaims. "You've returned!"

"Yes, mum."

"We're too old for a nanny," Jane whispers to Michael. "What does she think she's doing here?"

"Clearly my lessons did not stick in your head the first time, Jane Banks." She turns to Mrs. Banks. "I'll stay until the wind changes. I assume the children have their own rooms now, but the old nursery will be just fine for me, thank you. I will still require every second Tuesday off and as for the subject of my payment, we can discuss the matter later. Now, I'll settle in, if you don't mind. Jane, Michael, please remind me of the way. Come along. Spit spot!"

Jane and Michael snap to life and scramble to obey.

Mrs. Banks collapses on the sofa with a happy sigh.

Mary Poppins has returned to number 17 Cherry Tree Lane.

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><p><strong>I am truly nervous about this, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!<strong>

**-Juli-**


	2. Something is Brewing, About to Begin

**Thank you SO much for the kind reviews! I appreciate them more than you will ever know!**

**Bert doesn't make an appearance in this chapter, but he's coming soon, I promise. On what IS in this chapter- well, again, as usual, I hope it's not out of character. New stories, especially when writing characters I've never written before, make me so nervous! But again, thank you for the kind words trying to calm me down! They do help!**

**Again, I own nothing.**

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><p>Mary sets to work making the room homey once again. The toys are gone, as are the children's beds, but the room remains almost exactly as she remembers it. She pulls her hat stand and mirror out of her well-worn carpet bag. Then out comes the tape measure. Mary Poppins would never be so improper to call her charges up the stairs so she walks down and requests that they accompany her to the old nursery.<p>

"Stand up straight, please," she requests. Jane and Michael instantly add an inch to their respective heights. "Jane, kindly step up."

Unwillingly, the eldest Banks child steps forward. "Hmm," Mary hums as she draws the tape measure up to Jane's head. "Kind but prone to temper tantrums."

Michael starts laughing. "It's got you perfectly, Jane." Then his chest puffs as he all but stands on his tiptoes while Mary measures him.

"Intelligent yet lacking in ambition," Mary reads with a frown.

"I… I am... I am _not _lacking in ambition!" Michael protests as Jane crows.

"Oh, she got you good, Michael!"

"I don't see what's so amusing," Mary sniffs. "When I left, both of your measurements read "nearly perfect if not practically so" and it seems that has changed. When I leave my charges, I expect them to pay attention to the lessons taught. So, if I may, what happened?"

Jane and Michael stare at each other without answering. "Kindly do not keep me waiting," Mary chides. "Spit spot!"

Michael stares at the floor as Jane's jaw sets stubbornly. "It's unfair of you to expect perfection from us. We are _not _practically perfect and nothing you can ever do will change that. Come on, Michael."

She slams the door on the way out, trailing her brother behind her. "Is that so? Then your facts in that, as in most things, are faulty," Mary sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose once they've gone. Even when she first came to the Banks family, Jane wasn't given to slamming doors. She certainly has her work cut out for her.

0ooo0

That night, Mary is attempting to find sleep and failing miserably. She finds it infuriating; practically perfect people never allow wandering minds to foil their attempts at sleep. But this is the first time she's been in London in several years and there are certain places she has to distinctly bar her mind from going.

The door creaks open and Mary rolls towards the noise, her eyes already open. She's surprised to find Jane padding her way towards the bed. "Mary Poppins?" she whispers.

"Jane, why are you not asleep, may I ask?"

"I couldn't… Can we… Might we…"

"Is there something you would like to say?"

"You left us," Jane says, her eyes downcast.

Mary purses her lips. "I leave all my charges. That is the way of things. Rarely am I ever called back."

"But you've come back here."

"Well, clearly I must have some unfinished business. So, tell me, Jane, why _am _I here?"

"Who says it has anything to do with us?" Jane's stubbornness rallies.

"I _am_ here, am I not?"

Jane heaves a sigh. "Things were wonderful after you left. For a little while. Well, longer than a little while. But then Father got promoted at the bank and he started to work longer hours, so Mother had more time to devote to her causes and we just forgot."

There is the Jane that Mary remembers leaving. But, she reminds herself, Jane _isn't _the Jane she left so many years ago. "Jane, you are not a child anymore. You're a young woman and it would be foolish to treat you as anything else. So I'd like to talk to you as a young woman."

Jane looks wary. "Alright."

"Why are you so opposed to the idea of marriage?"

"That old question?"

"An answer, if you please."

"I don't understand why you are so interested."

"Jane, it isn't as frightening as it might seem. There's a man waiting out there for you if you open yourself up to love."

"Have you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I thought we were talking as adults, Mary Poppins. As an adult, I want to know if you've ever loved."

"I… Jane Banks, we are not talking about me." Mary panics as her mind dashes back to a nearby park and dances on rooftops.

"If you don't answer me, I don't see why I should have to answer you." That stubborn set returns to Jane's jaw.

Mary frowns. "So be it then."

Jane gets up off the bed. "Your hair looks very pretty unpinned, Mary Poppins. I think it's a shame that no one sees it like this."

As her charge begins to leave, Mary is filled with an overwhelming desire to confess something. It's not practically perfect, but sometimes, in the dark of night, she's not sure practically perfect is all it's cracked up to be. "Jane," she says. The girl turns around and waits expectantly. "In my line of work, I… My life is very different from yours." Mary looks out the window to hide that she had originally intended to confess something far different.

"Mary Poppins, I have a question but I'm not sure how to ask."

"I find that the most direct way is often the easiest. Remember, well begun is-"

"Did you love us?" Jane interrupts.

"What an absurd question," Mary replies. Jane's face falls and all Mary wants to do is reply that yes, yes she loved the Banks children more than any of her other charges, that she had nearly cried leaving them, that it wasn't fair of them to put "love us as a son and daughter" in the advertisement for their ideal nanny.

"Absurd, maybe. Unwarranted, no. You left, Mary Poppins. You left without saying goodbye."

"My task was complete. You and Michael didn't need me anymore. Other children did."

"That didn't mean we didn't want you!"

"That isn't the point, Jane."

"You never answered my question, Mary Poppins."

Mary smoothes the quilt over her legs. "It was more difficult to leave you and Michael than I would have liked."

"I don't understand."

Mary wants to scream in frustration. It's not that she doesn't love Jane and Michael. But practically perfect people never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking and she doesn't know how to begin to express the muddle she was in when she left Cherry Tree Lane. "I seem to recall we were going to talk about you," she deflects.

Jane toys with the sleeve on her nightshirt. Normally she'd push just a little harder, but she senses the sadness in her old nanny's eyes and accepts it. "It's not the marrying part. It's the _who_ part."

"Clarify yourself, if you will."

"I've met the men my father finds suitable and I… well, I think sometimes I'd rather be like you!"

"I beg your pardon!"

"Mary Poppins, you're not forced to do anything against your will. I envy you that."

Mary shifts uncomfortably. "I do believe it is time for young women to get to bed now," she comments, managing to put some force behind her words. "Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight, Mary Poppins." She gets to the door then runs back to the bed and squeezes her old nanny. "I am _so_ glad you're back!"

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><p><strong>Oh dear, I've just realized how many times Jane says "Mary Poppins" in this chapter... But to have her saying just "Mary" seems wrong as of right now! But don't worry; I have plans... Lots and lots of plans. I hope you enjoyed this!<strong>

**Thank you!**

**-Juli-**


	3. When He Shakes Hand With You

**Again, thank you for the reviews! They make my day! **

**So I'm trying this system where I don't post a chapter until the majority of the next one has been written, except I'm sort of cheating on this one because I only have an outline and one scene of the next chapter written. But my weekend is booked solid, so I wanted to get you this little thing before I go AWOL for a couple days. Besides, YAY, BERT!**

**I own nothing.**

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><p>She has been in London for almost a week now. Jane puts on a wonderful brat act while the sun shines through the windows. At nightfall though, she pads to Mary's room and allows Mary to brush her hair. More than that, she allows Mary to ask her questions and, even beyond that, she answers the questions honestly.<p>

It would be fine and dandy except for one thing; on more than one occasion, Mary has felt that same strange urge to confess or _explain _or something. Explain! Mary Poppins never, _ever _explains! She shows, demonstrates, leads people to conclusions. But she never explains herself! Even if she did, she's sure she could never find the right words.

Almost as worrying, there have been occasions where she has laughed with Jane. Genuinely laughed with a bright smile before remembering herself. It has been years since Mary has laughed genuinely. To be honest, there's only one person who could ever illicit anything other than a small smile with any sort of frequency.

If Mary were given to sentiment, she'd have to admit that she almost considers Jane a friend. But Mary is _not _given to sentiment and avoids thinking about friendship as much as possible, since that road will inevitably lead to a park not very far off that her dearest, and only, friend calls his own. One she has yet to visit this time around.

They had been too close to saying something the last time they were alone together. _Far _too close. He had all but asked her to stay and she was almost ready to beg him to ask her.

"Mary Poppins, "Jane starts.

"Yes?" she replies, dragging the brush through Jane's blonde locks.

"Have you spoken to Bert since your return?"

"And when, pray tell, would I have found the time to sneak off and do that?" Mary snaps.

"It was just a question."

Mary sighs. Practically perfect people do not lose their tempers or get defensive. She draws herself up. "I have not seen him yet. I'm sure he's very busy and wouldn't have time for a proper conversation."

Jane grins. "I think Bert will always have time for you, Mary Poppins," she says in a peculiar tone of voice.

"Jane, explain yourself, if you please." Sometimes the nanny role is completely effortless.

"Just a theory Michael and I once had," Jane answers in the suggestive yet cryptic and teasing tone that seems to be inbred in young women "Ow!" she exclaims when Mary yanks the brush through a tangle. She glances back to see that the unshakable brunette looks completely shaken and decides to push her luck further. "You never did answer my question, Mary Poppins."

"What question?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Practically perfect people never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking," Mary replies loftily, hoping that will be the end of that.

"So practically perfect people can't love? That hardly seems practically perfect to me."

And she doesn't know how to respond to that. Mary Poppins, who always has an answer for everything, doesn't have an answer! So she changes the subject to the one thing she knows will make Jane forget all about the question of Mary Poppins loving. "While we're on the subject of love, isn't your father bringing home a few callers from the bank tomorrow?"

Jane sighs in frustration. "Junior associates from the bank. Perfectly acceptable and perfectly _boring_."

"Now, Jane-"

"I don't see how you can sit there and tell me to be open to love when you're so closed off!" Jane exclaims, getting up. "It's really quite hypocritical of you." She sniffs and storms to her own room.

Mary stares at her. She's been called many things—impudent, tricky, sneaky, even, at one point, a monster—but no one has ever accused her of being hypocritical before.

0ooo0

The next day, Mary goes for a walk before breakfast. Jane and Michael are more than old enough to be getting themselves out of bed at this point and besides, Jane's words from the night before spur her on.

She finds him just as she expects to, hunched over a chalk drawing—a beautiful mountain scene this time. She drops a coin in his nearby hat. "Excuse me," she says quietly, "but that's a lovely drawing. It almost seems as if you've been there before."

"Only in my mind, ma'am," he replies absent-mindedly as he puts the finishing touches on the portrait. Then he turns around and a grin a mile wide overtakes his face. "Why, as I live and breathe, if it ain't Mary Poppins!"

"Hello, Bert," she smiles shyly.

"How long has it been? Nearing on ten, eleven years, isn't it?"

"I suppose, yes, that sounds about right. You haven't aged a day."

"And you look even younger and more beautiful, if such a thing were possible."

Mary laughs to hide the blush. He's right, though, her youthful looks are the one vanity she allows herself—well, after all she never claimed to be _perfect,_ only practically so! "None of your larking about, Bert," she chides gently.

"Well, I'll eat my hat if I'm not right, I will. So, where are the new little ones? Not afraid of old Bert, are they?" He pretends to look under the park bench to lure the surely shy new charges out.

Mary smiles at his silliness. It has been years but he hasn't changed at all. "Actually, Bert, it's just me."

"You're not on a job?" he frowns, looking confused. Mary Poppins is nearly always on a job.

"No, no, I am, but they're not here with me."

"Oh, well, it is a little early for young children to be out of bed. A little chilly too."

"Bert, I've…"

He waits patiently until it's clear she's not going to continue without a little prodding. "You've what?"

"You know my charges this time."

"I do?"

"Jane and Michael Banks."

"Well, I'll be!" he exclaims in surprise. "You've returned to Cherry Tree Lane, have you?"

"Indeed I have."

Then he does a little mental math. "Aren't they getting a little old for your help, Mary? I mean, Jane must be nearing 20 now and Michael not much younger."

"Jane is 18, thank you very much. And they still need me."

"Mary Poppins, if you say they need you, they need you. I just thought you were like lightning, never striking in the same place twice."

"I don't, usually."

"Jane is 18, you say?"

"She is. Turning into a fine young woman, if a bit impetuous."

"So she'd be the right age. You don't think that she's…" he trails off meaningfully.

Mary understands what he's thinking. "I suppose," she thinks aloud slowly. "Anything is possible, but… No. No, I wouldn't ask that of her. I couldn't."

"But it is possible?"

"_Anything _is possible, Bert. But I won't have what you're thinking be the truth."

He sighs and grins lopsidedly to hide the sadness. "I'm just glad you've returned to London, Mary."

"Bert, I-"

"Yes?"

She loses her nerve. "I would be grateful for your company next Tuesday afternoon for tea. If it's convenient for you."

"I'll do you one better, Mary Poppins. I'll give you my whole day."

"Oh, Bert, it _is _good to see you again!"

"Don't be a stranger, Mary. Once upon a time, you were far more than that. And you should bring the Banks by some time. Perhaps for a little holiday?"

"We shall see, Bert. All in good time."

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><p><strong>Ah, what can Bert and Mary be talking about? Well, that's between me, my story, and one of my best friends who I bounce all my story ideas off of. All in good time, my friends. All in good time.<strong>

**I'm kind of going along with the idea that Bert is kind of magical too, so he wouldn't age. Mostly because I want Bert and Mary to be in love forever and ever.**

**I hope this was a decent way to pass a few minutes!**

**-Juli-**


	4. As The Ladder of Life Has Been Strung

**I'm back! Hello, hope you had a wonderful weekend. We're finally getting to the meat of the story and I am thrilled!**

**I continue to own nothing.**

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><p>"Mary Poppins," George Banks says commandingly, though kindly, at breakfast. He still wants to believe he's master and commander of his house. Mary kindly does not point out that his children clearly run the house and that he has even less control now that she's returned.<p>

"Yes, sir?"

"We shall be having company for dinner. I would appreciate it if you could take the night off."

Mary coolly takes a sip of water. "If that's what you would like."

"No," Jane interrupts. Mary starts; yes, Jane can be a brat, but this is the first time she's been openly defiant with her father. "I want Mary Poppins to eat with us."

"Jane," Mary says warily. "If your father wishes that I stay out of the way…"

"Father," Jane changes tactics, suddenly switching to pleading. "I have to put up with men I hardly know. I would simply feel more comfortable with Mary Poppins there."

Mary doesn't interfere. It simply isn't her place to make this call. "Well, I…" Mr. Banks starts.

"Please, Father?"

"I suppose an extra place setting couldn't hurt."

"Oh, thank you!" Jane springs out of her chair to kiss her rather uncomfortable looking father while Mary frowns, wondering what the girl could possibly have up her sleeve.

0ooo0

Dinner in the Banks' household is served promptly at six. At five, Mr. Banks brings two young men home with him from the bank, introducing them as Patrick Dunn and Lawrence Wright. Mary doesn't need her tape measure to know that Lawrence Wright will never do for Jane. He is clearly accustomed to being in control and the fiercely independent Jane would never agree to be kept under his thumb. Or perhaps that's just wishful thinking on Mary's part; even she will admit that she is absurdly protective of the girl who reminds her more of herself as a young woman than she'd ever care to admit. She would never want to see the defiance and intelligence in Jane's eyes dulled—though she wouldn't object to that defiance being reigned in slightly.

Patrick, on the other hand, seems far more acceptable. He seems infatuated with Jane from the moment they are introduced, content to let her talk, to challenge her thoughts and actually listen to her responses. When Jane directs the conversation towards Mary, he listens to her as well—surprising, since most young men don't believe that a nanny could possibly say anything worthwhile. Yes, if Mary had to make the decision for Jane, Patrick would most definitely have her vote.

Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Banks seem taken in by Lawrence. His demeanor is perfectly catered to suit Mrs. Banks and he's clearly on his way to a top ranking position at the bank. Mary knows that the Banks want the best for Jane, but she has to wonder at their choices sometimes. Or she would, if it were her place to wonder at their choices.

But if Bert is right and Jane is… well, that would completely give Mary the right to worry about their choices. But, no, Bert is not right. He is flat out wrong, and even if he _is _right, she's going to make him wrong. She would never ask Jane to choose something like what he's talking about. No, that is simply not an option.

It really is too bad that one of Jane's current options is so awful, Mary thinks, as Lawrence makes another subtly sarcastic comment, vaguely seeped in misogyny. There's something incredibly unpleasant lurking beneath his exterior.

The word that comes to Mary's mind is dog, but Jane glances at her, rolls her eyes, and mouths "Pig."

For one second, just one brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, Lawrence's face takes on a distinctly piggy snout and beady eyes.

Mary blinks in surprise and a little dismay.

She had absolutely nothing to do with that little piece of magic.

0ooo0

"So what did you think?" Mary asks later that night as she brushes Jane's hair.

"Lawrence Wright is a pig," Jane replies bluntly. Mary tenses up remembering the incident.

"And Patrick?" she prods carefully. She knows that Jane will shut her down if she seems too nosy.

"He seemed… slightly not as insufferable as I was expecting."

"High praise," Mary replies sarcastically, but not without a faint smile.

"Mary Poppins," Jane says suddenly. "Where does your magic come from?"

Mary freezes. No, she is not letting Jane start down this path. "Jane Banks, I do believe that is none of your business," she retorts, probably icier than she needed.

"It was just a question."

She sighs. "I apologize, Jane. I'm tired and I don't feel very well." _And I don't want to talk about this. _It's only a little white lie and she really is starting to get a headache.

"Are you ill?"

"Merely tired. A good night's rest is all I need. I'm sorry I snapped but I'd like to rest, if it's alright with you."

Jane's eyes narrow. "You're skittish, Mary Poppins."

"And you need to be going to sleep. Off you go. Spit spot!"

Jane may be a young woman now, but Mary always has been able to make things happen with that simple phrase.

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><p><strong>I have good news... Well, I think it's good news. This chapter was originally about 3,000 words long. I cut it into two very lopsided halves, so the next chapter is entirely written and over 2,000 words long. AND it's entirely concerned with Mary Poppins' day off, which means it's entirely concerned with Mary and Bert! And I shall try to put it up soon!<strong>

**-Juli-**


	5. On The Rooftops of London

**Here's the chapter I promised! I hope you like it, because I like it… Though, again, I have some worries about the characterizations. But the constant reviews from Fizzy Starburst, TudorGurl43, 450, and BroadwayStarlet are terribly reassuring, so I'd like to take a second to say thank you!**

**So I've decided to sort of attempt to write Bert's Cockney accent, though not very well, admittedly. Perhaps someday I'll go back and edit his other scenes.**

**I continue to own nothing.**

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><p>Jane hardly ever stops asking about the source of Mary's magic. Mary carefully avoids answering and spends the rest of the week feeling jumpy and skittish. This is a new experience for Mary Poppins. She has always been sure of herself, sure of her world. But now things seem to happening that she's not quite in control of. She is not fond of this turn of events.<p>

She feels this way until Monday night, then recalls that the next day is her day off. The day she's supposed to be spending with Bert. All the jumpiness and skittishness immediately flies out of the window, only to be replaced by a strange fluttering in her stomach. Butterflies! Mary Poppins has butterflies in her stomach. "None of that, now," she says sternly, placing a hand on the offending organ. Somehow that manages to calm her down enough to get to sleep, but only for a few hours.

Her days off are the one day she allows laziness—she'll wake up at seven in the morning instead of with the sun, she'll spend a few seconds more choosing a dress and she'll allow herself a cup of tea before she sets out on whatever adventure the day holds. Though to be honest, it's never much of an adventure. She runs errands, visits Uncle Albert, and perhaps gets a light lunch with Bert. Mary Poppins uses her day off to be human. Well, when forays into chalk drawings and tea parties on the ceiling are run of the mill, doing absolutely nothing magical _is _an adventure and a pleasant one at that.

But this Tuesday is different from her usual day off. Not only is it the first time she's spending an extended amount of time with Bert in years, but now she has something to legitimately worry about.

Today, Mary doesn't rise at seven. She doesn't even rise with sun. No, she's pacing the floorboards long before the sun dares to make an appearance. She changes her dress no less than four times. She decides that there's too much rouge on her cheeks, so she wipes it off and starts over again. The pins in her hair come out and go back in several different times. Mary knows she's pretty. She knows that whatever she chooses, she will look perfectly satisfactory. And yet… _And yet perfectly satisfactory isn't perfectly satisfactory at all, is it? _ some traitorous part of her mind whispers. If she keeps thinking thoughts like that, she won't need rouge for cheeks at all.

Finally, it's time for her to go meet Bert. For some reason, the butterflies are back full force and she's smoothing her skirt far more than necessary. "Come now, Mary," she murmurs as she waits in a little café. "Be sensible. You're being absurd."

"Y'know, in all the years I've known you, I don't think I've ever 'eard you talk to yourself." She whips around in her seat and finds Bert grinning. He's cleaned up nicely. There's only the faintest smudge of blue chalk on his white shirt. She finds herself oddly touched that he went out of his way to stay neat for her.

"You're late," she accuses him for lack of a better retort.

"Or you're early."

"Perhaps it's a bit of both," Mary concedes.

"Per'aps," he repeats.

They smile at each other for a minute and then Mary recalls her manners. "Please, Bert, sit down." She gestures to the chair across from her. "I ordered some tea and cakes; I hope that you don't mind."

"Mary, I'm sure it'll be practically perfect," he says earnestly, then adds a cheeky grin.

She glares playfully at his use of the familiar description and relaxes as she feels them relaxing back into their well-worn roles. This is Bert, her dearest friend. No need to be nervous or to censor herself.

"Bert, I have a confession," she announces after they've had their fill.

"If it's that we just indulged in one of the best teas not taken on a ceiling, I agree with you 'ole'eartedly."

Mary almost chuckles before remembering herself. "No. Well, yes, but it's about something more important than tea."

"What could possibly be more important than tea with a lovely lady, such as yourself?"

"Bert," she chides gently.

He rewards her with a lopsided grin. "You were saying?"

"I think… I believe it might be true that you were right about Jane."

He frowns. "You mean…? 'ow'd you figure it out?"

Mary relays the story of the piggish Lawrence Wright and Jane's interest in her magic. Bert nearly howls with laughter when she mentions that something or someone had made Lawrence reveal his true self. "She always did have spunk, that one."

Mary sighs and he suddenly stops laughing. "Mary, shouldn't you be 'appy about this?"

"Happy about what, exactly? Happy about her _replacing _me?" It's the first time she's voiced the possibility.

"Mary Poppins," he says firmly. "You'd have to be daft to think anybody could replace you and I know you're not daft."

"It's not just that, Bert. How can I ask her to choose this life? A life of following the winds, never settling in one place? It's no life for a lady of breeding."

"What about you?"

"That's different!"

"It's not, if you think about it. 'ave a little faith in her, Mary Poppins. You and she are cut from the same cloth."

"Oh, Bert…"

"Things do sometimes turn out how they're supposed to without your pushing them along, Mary; it's not un'eard of. But there'll be plenty of time to think about that later. Right now, what say we get out of 'ere and enjoy the rest of your day off?"

0ooo0

The day is one of the most pleasant in her memory. She and Bert spend the day wandering the streets of London, walking through different shops and parks, talking about nothing truly substantial. No magic involved. Even so, an entirely diverting day, filled with a differently sort of magic.

When darkness falls, Bert helps her climb up onto the rooftops. He really is right—there is no view in the world like London at night.

His sweeper friends join them, enthusiastic to welcome her back to London. She smiles, thinking there might be no better sound in the world than chimney sweeps singing rousing, cheerful songs.

Of course they expect her to show off a little and dance, so dance she does. There are cheers as she tap dances and they only get louder when Bert grabs her hand and sweeps her into a fast, spinning dance. She feels her skirt fly out and whirl around her legs and for the first time in a very, very long time, Mary forgets herself, throws her head back and laughs.

"Y'know, Mary Poppins," Bert comments. "There are times when I think that smile of yours could outshine the very stars."

She stiffens a little and pulls away. This is leading in the one direction she can't control or predict and she doesn't want to go there. "Bert, don't be foolish," she says lightly. "The stars shine so beautifully. You can't possibly believe that a simple smile might outdo them."

But that's the thing; in her heart of hearts, Mary Poppins _knows _that the stars are dimmer for him when she's around. It's a terrifying and thrilling thought but not one she's ready to face.

Thankfully, he drops it and they continue for some time, dancing circles around the other sweeps until finally the men take off over the rooftops, each saying goodbye before they do.

The pair is left alone on the rooftops. Bert sits down, resting his back against a chimney and motions for her to join him. Primly, she sits, careful to keep an appropriate distance between them.

"Mary, I 'ave a question."

"I shall do my best to answer it then."

"'ave you made any decision about Jane?"

Mary sighs. "If I must, I must."

"You don't need to sound so sad about it. It's a good thing… Ain't it?"

"It is, but…"

"But?"

"Nanny-ing is all I know, Bert. I am _good _at it; I won't go so far as to say it defines me, but it's a part of me. I can't imagine a life without children who need me."

He stares out over the many buildings for a long time. "If Jane were to take over, would you be free to…" He trails off.

"Herbert Alfred," she scolds gently, "when you start a sentence, I should very much like to hear the end of it."

"Free to love. To- to marry," he finishes clumsily. "Free to 'ave kids."

Her eyes widen. She hadn't thought that far ahead. "I… Well, yes, I suppose, but…"

"Mary Poppins, when you start a sentence, I should very much like to 'ear the end of it," he teases when she loses the end of the sentence to thought.

"I'd have to train Jane, of course. And there's Michael to deal with. The Banks are far from practically perfect and I should like to fix them first as a sort of last hurrah."

He nods.

"Bert, I, well, as much as I loathe to admit it, I'm nervous."

"What could you possibly 'ave to be nervous about?"

"What if she doesn't agree?"

"Then you keep being Mary Poppins."

Then, in a voice smaller than anything he would have thought Mary Poppins capable of, "And what if she does?"

He grins. "Then you keep being Mary Poppins only without the gallivanting off to foreign parts all the time. Can't say I mind that part."

She sniffs. "Look at me, succumbing to the What Ifs. I'm worse than a child at bedtime. I apologize."

"Don't apologize. It's nice to see Mary Poppins 'ave an off day. Besides, you look a right sight prettier with that frown on your face and your 'air coming out of the pins."

Her hand flies to her hair and she realizes that she must look a fright. He takes the hand from her head and holds it in his. She freezes and pulls away. "Bert, don't be foolish."

"If this is foolish then, Mary, I'm foolish and I don't care."

"Please stop."

She sees hesitation in his eyes, but he decides to push just one last time. "Mary, I'm not asking for much, not even a promise, just a chance to… I just 'ave to say…"

"Bert, stop," she commands and it's the first time she's ever snapped at him without _any _sort of twinkle in her eye or smile hidden poorly behind a frown.

He falls silent and they stare at each other until he starts apologizing. "I'm sorry. I've made you uncomfortable. Believe me, I never meant-"

She stands. "I think it would be best if I returned to Cherry Tree Lane now," she says, her voice a weirdly detached monotone.

She allows him to help her down from the roof and to walk her as far as the park. They're plagued by an uncomfortable silence that has never been there before. He tips his hat when she insists she can manage the rest of the way as they reach gate of the park, unwilling to push her any further than he already has tonight, though he'd clearly prefer to see her safely to the door.

She walks the lane in a sort of dream. It's late, past midnight. There are no sounds beyond those of the world at night and she ponders the evening, allowing her mind to wander. He had been about to say he loves her, she's sure of it. Bert is in love with her. She supposes she should have seen it coming, but this really, really is a surprise.

A wonderful, beautiful surprise, part of her thinks. The other part panics, wondering if she even knows _how _to love properly.

When she reaches the door of 17 Cherry Tree Lane, she does something for the first time in her life. For the first time, Mary Poppins cries. For one minute, she allows hot, bitter tears to run down her cheeks, then composes herself. After all, this _is _still her place of employment.

She enters the house quietly, careful not to make any sound that might wake someone. She makes it to her room—no, the old nursery, not _her _room—without mishap, but when she reaches for the door, the light inside clicks on and Mary nearly jumps out of her skin. Clearly she is off her game tonight.

Jane sits calmly in the rocking chair that Mary once sat in to listen to the children rehash the adventures of the day while she mended various bits of clothing and pretended not to remember them. "It's a bit late to be coming home, isn't it?" Jane asks mildly.

"You're a bit young to be waiting up for me, aren't you?" Mary retorts, feeling as if the entire world has gone mad.

"It seemed appropriate. How was your day off?"

"It was satisfactory," Mary replies, beginning the process of getting ready for bed. "I assume the house continued running without my presence."

"It did." Jane looks down. "Patrick called today."

Mary sighs; the last thing she wants to do is talk about a budding romance, but if she must, she must. And she must because Jane starts relaying the mostly interesting afternoon they had spent talking in the sitting room, marred only by a couple of awkward pauses spent looking around the room.

But then Jane crosses to the mirror to help Mary unpin her hair and she suddenly drops the subject. "Mary Poppins, have you been crying?"

"It's nothing."

"It is _not _nothing! Come along, out with it! Spit spot!" She sounds almost exactly like her old nanny.

Both Mary and Jane freeze. Jane looks stricken. "I, uh, sorry," she apologizes hastily. "I got carried away. I just wanted to make sure you're alright and that seemed the best way to get an answer…. Again, I'm sorry."

"It's perfectly alright. And I'm just fine, Jane. Nothing a little sleep and sunshine can't fix." She takes a deep breath. "I _do _have things to discuss with you, but it can wait until morning. Now goodnight, Jane."

Jane takes the hint from her tone and leaves. Mary sits down on her bed, wondering how her life managed to get so muddled in just one night.

* * *

><p><strong>I find that my favorite part of the entire Mary Poppins story is that Julie Andrews was <strong>_**determined **_**that there be no hint of romance between Mary Poppins and Bert in the movie. Someone should probably let her know they failed miserably at that… (Not that I'm complaining!)**

**If, for whatever reason, you should like to get a glimpse into the upside-downish nuthouse I like to call my mind, and you're on Twitter, I tend to putter around there, especially while procrastinating. Check out Darling_Pretty if it strikes your fancy! I'm happy to follow you back, of course, just let me know who to look out for! (I find reviews and PMs the most useful for this purpose. I don't always see tweets…)**

**-Juli-**


	6. A Sweep Is As Lucky, As Lucky Can Be

**Ugh, I am so sorry this took so long! I've been busy and crazy and angry and sad and happy and frustrated and just, frankly, a bit of a mess. But I'm back and I'm hoping to stay that way. I'm not even really happy with this chapter, but it serves its purpose, I suppose. I like the last half far more than the first half, but I'll let you be the judge of that, I suppose.**

**As always, I own absolutely nothing.**

* * *

><p>Wednesday morning, Mary rises with the sun as usual. She sets about getting herself ready for the day, and though she'd never admit it, she takes longer than usual, probably putting off the inevitable. When there is simply nothing else she can do—her hair is perfection, there's not a single sock that needs mending, the room is spotless—she takes a deep breath to steel herself and goes to Jane's room.<p>

The girl is still under the covers, sound asleep. "Jane," Mary says quietly, shaking her gently. The only response she gets is Jane rolling over and pulling the covers up. Mary pulls the covers back and says her name a little louder. Jane yanks her pillow over her head. "Fine, if that's how you want this to go," Mary sighs. She snaps her fingers and the sheets yank out from under the girl, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground.

"Mary Poppins!" Jane groans. "That wasn't fair."

"I never _said _I was fair," Mary replies proudly. "Now, do be kind enough to dress and meet me downstairs."

When Jane comes downstairs, she finds a fine spread set out in the kitchen and Mary Poppins pouring orange juice. "Well, don't just stand there," Mary commands without turning around. "Take your seat."

Jane's eyes widen in surprise—_no one _breakfasts with Mary Poppins. "Jane, if you don't begin soon, your food will get cold," Mary instructs placidly.

Slowly, Jane sits down at the table and picks up her silverware. "Napkin," Mary points out and Jane hastens to place the fabric in her lap.

"What's the occasion?" Jane asks.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Mary snaps and the tea pot floats to her waiting hand. "Tea?" she offers.

"Please."

When she's done pouring Jane's cup, she fixes Jane with one of her famous stares. Jane shifts uncomfortably in her seat, but forcers herself to meet Mary's eyes and not look away. "Mary Poppins, is everything alright?" she finally asks.

"Everything is fine. Jane, I want you to be very clear that what I'm about to ask of you is entirely your choice."

"My choice?"

"I won't be angry or disappointed if you say no to what I'm about to propose. In fact, I don't want you to answer me today. I'd like you to take time to carefully consider your answer."

"Mary Poppins, you're being vague."

"Vague? Me? The very idea! I am never vague; I'm merely trying to prepare you."

"Prepare me? Prepare me for what?"

Mary sighs. "Can I trust you with a secret?"

"Oh yes," Jane breathes. "Anything!"

"Recall that you've been asking about the source of my magic and I've not answered you."

"I do."

"My magic is everywhere, Jane. It's not in me, or in my objects; it's simply there and it's accessible to anyone, provided they believe in it."

Jane frowns. "But then why-"

"Even those who profess to believe in magic don't truly believe so, not purely and selflessly. It takes a special person to access it."

"So then you're saying Michael and I could-"

Mary interrupts her. "You, yes. Michael, I'm afraid is simply far too logical and scientifically minded."

"But he believes in magic! He remembers all you did for us!"

"I don't doubt that for a second. But he would want to understand and magic hides itself from those who would try to capture and master it."

"But you-"

"I allow for magic and am grateful for its help, but I do not pretend for a second that I might truly understand its source. For that, the magic allows me to use it as I wish. But it's the magic's choice, not mine."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"When I was a girl, Jane, not much younger than you, I had a governess, Miss Julie Sanders, who had been my nanny when I was small. She told me the exact same thing I'm telling you about magic and taught me to access it. She trained me and then she was able to retire her umbrella, as it were, after naming me her, well, successor, for lack of a better term."

"And you think I'm your… you."

"I just merely wanted to give you the option, Jane. You have to realize the consequences; this is not something to be taken lightly. I love what I do, but it can be trying. It will open doors, but it closes them too. You have many options and this is only one of them; I want you to realize exactly what you're choosing."

"Mary Poppins, I do wish you'd be quiet and let me think!" Jane exclaims.

Mary jumps; no one speaks to her like that! Even when children snap at her and try to order her around, it doesn't sound like they actually believe she'll do it.

"I think," Jane says slowly. "I…"

"I don't want an answer right now, Jane."

"I suppose that if I were to agree, I couldn't keep seeing Patrick."

"That would probably be for the best," Mary says slowly. "Romance… complicates things. It makes it difficult to leave and you must _always_ be able to leave."

Jane smiles as it all clicks into place. "Oh, so that's why you and Bert never-"

"I beg your pardon!" Mary exclaims. "Bert and I are friends, nothing more."

Jane gives her old nanny a knowing look. "If you say so."

Mary gets up and starts clearing plates. "I believe this conversation is over. Go wake your brother please."

"Mary Poppins-"

"_Now_, Jane."

Jane obeys, leaving Mary to the dishes.

0ooo0

The day is beautiful and Jane is clearly restless. Michael, as always, is content to open his astronomy books and bury his head, but Jane isn't. "Come on, Michael," she whines.

"Jane," Michael says, his eyes trained on the book, "have you ever sat in total silence and read a chapter of a book without somebody interrupting you?"

"Um, no…"

"Neither have I."

"I want to go for a walk and Father would simply die if he found out I went out unescorted! Please, Michael?"

"Why don't you take Mary Poppins?"

"Because she's not exactly happy with me right now," Jane admits.

That gets Michael to put the book down. "Why? What'd you do?"

"Not here. Go put your shoes on. We'll go for a walk."

"But-"

"Come along now, spit spot!" Jane claps her hands and Michael gets up, grumbling.

"You sound more and more like Mary Poppins every day."

"You have no idea," Jane murmurs, pulling her coat down from the hook.

"And exactly where do you two think you're going?" Jane turns around and sees Mary Poppins standing at the top of the stairs, tapping her foot.

"On a walk," Jane responds.

"And who gave you permission for this outing?"

"Mary Poppins, it's such a lovely day outside. And I figured that as long as Michael escorted me, there wouldn't be any problem."

"You did, did you?"

"I need to think. And I want to take a walk in the park."

Mary sighs. "Be back by midday."

"Oh thank you, Mary Poppins! We will be!"

0ooo0

"Wait, so _you _would be like Mary Poppins? The umbrella and magic and everything?" Michael asks.

"That's what I've gathered."

Michael bursts out laughing. "It's not funny, Michael!"

"Oh, don't be a spoil sport, Jane, it's funny! The idea of you trying to control kids like we were? It's funny!"

"I don't see what's so funny about it," Jane sniffs.

"Mary Poppins is Mary Poppins and you're… you!"

Jane glares at him. She opens her mouth to say something, but doesn't get the chance because she's sent sprawling on the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss!"

"I should think you should be, but that doesn't make it better! Look, you've torn my new dress!"

"Well, to be fair, you weren't looking where you were going!"

Jane stops dusting herself and looks up in a fury. "Why, of all the impudent…" She trails off when she finds herself staring into a set of seriously green eyes. But then she remembers herself.

"I did apologize, miss," the boy points out. He can't be much older than her, maybe a year or so. "An' it was an accident. But you seem still angry."

"I _am _still angry!" she insists, without much feeling. "This is a new dress!"

"It don't look like something that can't be fixed, miss!"

"And you didn't even help me up!"

"You didn't give me the chance, miss!"

"Oh, do stop calling me miss!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to call you?"

"You _could _call me Jane."

"I didn't know you were called Jane! An' even if I did, you would 'ave called me rude!"

"Well, now you know and you have my permission," Jane responds haughtily. "But only if I may call you by your name."

"Charlie, the name is Charlie."

"I'm Jane Banks and this is my brother, Michael," Jane says, finally remembering her little brother.

"Charlie Porter, where's your 'ead at?" An older man runs up and Jane gasps in delight.

"Bert!"

"Why, if it ain't Jane and Michael Banks! What are the pair of you doing out?"

"Jane forced me to walk with her," Michael explains with a roll of his eyes.

"And if I hadn't, you'd forget what the sun looks like!" Jane retorts.

"And were you let out of your 'ouse, or is this another attempt at running away?"

"No, Mary Poppins knows!" Michael insists.

There's a flicker of _something _in Bert's eyes, though Jane can't put her finger on what. "And 'ow is she?" Bert asks.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Michael asks. "Come back for midday with us!"

"No, I can't. Must be off. I'm teaching Charlie 'ere the ropes of being a sweep… or the brooms, such as it were."

Jane frowns. "Did you and Mary Poppins have a row, Bert?"

"No, no. Don't you go worrying about Mary Poppins and I. We're great friends, right as rain. Always 'ave been, always will be."

Jane studies him for a moment. "You want more, don't you?" she finally inquires. He doesn't answer verbally, but his face gives her all the answer she needs. "You should tell her that!"

"It's just not that simple, Jane."

"Oh, you and Mary Poppins. 'It's not that simple, Jane!' It _is _that simple, if you would let it be! And it really will be now that I can start helping out!"

"So she's talked to you then, 'as she?"

"She has. If I agree, does that mean you might have a chance with her?"

"I don't know, Jane. I just don't know."

"If you ask me," Michael injects. "I think she's just scared."

"Scared?" Jane asks.

"Scared. Think about it. How many kids has she had to leave? Would you be willing to love people after all of that?"

"I never thought of that," Jane admits.

"Can I just say I 'ave absolutely no blinking clue what is going on right now?" Charlie says.

"Oh, you'll know Mary Poppins soon enough," Bert replies, clapping a hand on the younger sweep's shoulder. "Charlie, you've met Jane already, I suppose."

"He nearly killed me," Jane responds.

"I did no such thing!" Charlie insists. "You 'aven't got a scratch on you!"

"Well, if you didn't nearly kill me, how did I come by this horrible tear in my skirt?"

"If dresses were capable of feeling, I'd apologize to it, but I 'ardly think you nearly died because of a tear!"

"And you hardly apologized," Jane sniffs.

Charlie rolls his eyes, then fixes them on the tear. "I'm truly sorry for the mortal danger I put you in, Jane Banks' skirt. You 'appy now?"

Jane stifles a giggle. "No, but you seemed determined to make this more difficult than it need be, so I'll take what I can get."

A nearby clock tower chimes noon. "C'mon, Jane, we need to get home or Mary Poppins will have our skin!" Michael insists.

She boldly sticks out her hand for Charlie to shake. "It was… interesting to meet you, Charlie Porter."

He raises the hand to his lips and brushes her knuckles against them. "I am sorry about your skirt, Miss Banks. I 'ope the dust comes out."

"I'm sure it will."

A blush creeps up the back of his neck. "An' I 'ope our paths might cross again."

"So long as you don't have any intention on ruining other perfectly good dresses, I can't see why not."

"Jane, we really need to go!" Michael nags.

She turns to Bert. "She really does care for you. I hope you know that. And she never answers me when I ask her if she's been in love. Let that tell you what it will."

"Jane, come _on_!"

"Oh, alright, do try to contain yourself, Michael. This sort of behavior isn't acceptable for dogs pulling on leashes and it isn't acceptable for _you_!"

Bert watches the Banks children rush down the lane with a laugh. "She's going to make Mary Poppins proud, that one is," he informs Charlie.

"So 'oo is this magical Mary Poppins?"

"Let's get some food an' I'll tell you all about 'er," Bert laughs. "Every good sweep should know 'oo Mary Poppins is. Especially you, lad."

* * *

><p><strong>I don't think that's the last we've seen of young Mr. Charlie Porter… But next chapter, I'm thinking it may be time for Bert to have a few words with a certain Mary Poppins!<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed it!**

**-Juli-**


	7. Half in Shadow and Halfway in Light

**Hello! Sorry these chapters are taking me so long to turn out. I'm working really hard to finish this story in the next two weeks (when I leave on vacation where I won't have access to the internet for a month). In the meantime, enjoy.**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>Mary excuses herself early from dinner; her head is beginning to pound. It worries her—after all, she's never been sick a day in her life and now she's getting headaches. But it's nothing a cup of tea and an early bedtime can't fix.<p>

She gets ready for bed and finds she can't sleep. So she sits in front of her mirror and plaits her hair to give her hands something to do while she thinks.

One would think she'd be worried about Jane's answer to her proposal, but she's really more concerned with how to respond to Bert, should he ever catch her off guard and detail his feelings for her. It's not as if his feelings go completely unreturned—well, she doesn't _think _they go unreturned. That moment last night when they were spinning on the rooftop, she had been more than willing to blame her light-headedness on the dizziness, but she hadn't examined the possibility that the cause lay in her best friend's smile. And even when she had insisted on going home, he had walked her until she wouldn't let him go further. That always was Bert's way; he'd press her until the moment she felt uncomfortable and then he'd back away—the consummate gentleman.

But does she _love _him? He's so sure of his feelings for her and she can't figure out which way is up. She's unused to being so unsure of herself, but, then, she's unused to allowing her heart license to feel this way about anyone. She worries that she's gotten herself into a muddle that she can't get herself out of.

As she ties a ribbon around the end of her braid, there comes a soft tapping at her window. Frowning, she pulls her dressing gown around her and goes to the offending glass. "Bert!" she exclaims when she pushes it open to find the man sitting quite comfortably in the nearby tree, tossing twigs at the pane.

"'Ello, Mary Poppins!" he greets her cheerfully. "Fancy meeting you 'ere!"

"Bert, come down from there this instant," she commands, far too busy envisioning the horrible death he'd die should he fall to respond to his pleasantries.

"Fine night we're 'aving, ain't it?"

"Technically," she sniffs, looking up at the moon. "It's a fine morning. And you're going to get yourself killed. I would appreciate it greatly if you would stand on solid ground."

"Mary, you need to relax!" he laughs.

"Bert, I shan't ask again," she warns.

He sends a disarming grin her way, ensuring that she won't turn him into a frog or something, and climbs in through the window.

"Thank you," she says pertly.

"I wasn't gonna fall, Mary."

"Is there a particular reason you're scaling trees outside my bedroom at one in the morning?"

"There was just something Jane said today that's been bugging me an'-"

"Bert, really, I've had a long day and I'd really prefer-"

He looks uncomfortable but pushes on. "Mary, this is something I need to get off me chest, okay?" His eyes beg her to let him continue.

She takes a deep breath and purses her lips but nods stiffly for him to continue.

"Mary, I- I love you. An' I know that you're Mary Poppins an'-"

"Bert, I know," she says softly.

"You… you do?"

She bites her lip gently as she nods. "I've known since last night. I've been carefully considering how to respond but I still haven't reached a conclusion. I… well, I do care about you. But I have to consider the consequences. If Jane chooses to not accept my offer, which is a very real possibility, that leaves me in the exact same position as I've always been in and I just… I think it would be best if we were to remain friends. If possible."

He gives her a lopsided, melancholy grin that only makes her want to cry. "Of course it's possible. It's not somethin' I expected you to return, I just… felt you 'ad a right to know."

Mary feels something akin to her heart breaking into a million pieces. "I'm so sorry, Bert."

"Now don't you start feeling all guilty on me, Mary Poppins," he reprimands her. "You've said your piece an' if it's what'll make you 'appy, then I'm just 'appy to 'ave you in my life at all. But I do 'ave to say, you look lovely tonight."

She blushes bright crimson as she remembers her state of undress. "I really am sorry, Bert. I don't deserve a friend like you."

"Nonsense," he replies. "I'm nothin' special."

"You're a diamond in the rough, Bert. Even if you don't understand that. Now you had best be leaving. If the Banks were to wake up, I'm sure they'd have me fired for misconduct."

"Nobody would ever 'ave the nerve to fire you, Mary."

"Not yet, anyways. But there's a first time for everything."

"Some'ow I just don't think that'll ever happen. A life with Mary Poppins in it is a thousand times better than one without 'er."

"_Anything _can happen, Bert. Don't forget that."

"So I'll see you at Uncle Albert's for Sunday dinner?" he asks, referring to another established tradition when Mary is in London.

"I'm not sure," she says vaguely. "There's so much to do here and-"

"Don't you start avoiding me, Mary Poppins."

"Avoiding you? Me? The very idea!"

"I mean it, Mary. I'm fine. We're fine. Don't you worry."

"I really am sorry, Bert. I'm not sure I can express how truly sorry I am."

"Then don't. 'ave a lovely rest of your morning, Mary Poppins." He doffs his cap, then exits the way he entered.

She closes the window and settles in for a long, sleepless, guilty night.

0ooo0

She manages to wring a few hours of sleep out of the night, but she's just as tired when she wakes up. As she gets ready, she tries not to think too much; if she does, she'll see that smile of Bert's in her mind and her heart will break all over again. So instead she focuses on Jane. A dose of handling the magic she would control could help her make an informed decision and so Mary has decided to start training her, regardless of the decision she makes.

She throws the curtains back in Jane's room and Jane groans her displeasure. "Don't you have any pleasanter way to wake people, Mary Poppins? Say, a foghorn or trumpet of some sort?"

"I find it's always easier to wake with the sun's help. And I think you're more than old enough to call me Mary."

Jane shoots up in bed. "No one calls you Mary. Even my mother calls you Mary Poppins!"

"Yes, well, your mother is not my pupil when it comes to magic. But should you not want to…"

"No! I mean, thank you… Mary." Jane's mouth closes to form the P sound but stops there.

"Now, out of bed. The day isn't very long and there's so much we need to get done."

0ooo0

They start in the kitchen; Mary remembers her first real lesson and does her best to imitate it. She's a natural and wonderful teacher, but this is something she's never done before; the magic is second nature to her now and she's not exactly sure where to begin.

She sets out a sack of flour. "The trick," she tells Jane, "isn't anything particularly special. You just have to want it."

"Wanting it? _That's _your secret?"

"It's not as easy as it may seem." Mary glances at the sack of flour and snaps. It immediately floats over to her and she directs it to the kitchen table. "It takes focus, determination, and conviction. If you don't believe in yourself and your control, nothing else will."

"Mary P- Mary, I have a question."

"I should think I might have an answer."

"Why can't Bert do this? If it's really as simple as all of this, I would think that if anybody could use magic, it would be him."

"Oh, he could, if he tried," Mary replies easily.

"But I remember when you were here before, he tried to get us into his drawing and it didn't work!"

Mary smiles slightly at the memory of his absolutely absurd attempt at magic. "He didn't really believe it would work, he just wanted to make _me _do it. I actually believe he'd be quite adept, but he's always been content to let me do the magic."

"Michael and I saw him yesterday."

"Yes, I know," Mary replies.

Jane frowns but pushes on. "He looked well."

"Yes, he does, doesn't he?" Mary confirms, her mind drifting away.

"He didn't seem to want to talk about you though. Are you and he alright?"

"Bert and I are just fine, thank you very much. Now please stop putting off trying to lift that flour."

"Wait, how did you know that we saw Bert?"

Mary colors slightly as she realizes her slip-up. But a pointed stare works to avoid admitting it.

"Michael thinks you're in love with him," Jane blurts.

"Me? In love with Michael? Why, the very idea!" Mary knows perfectly well what Jane means, but the vague phrasing gives her a way out.

Jane giggles. "No, of course not! He thinks you're in love with Bert! Or at least, he thinks you would be if you could love."

"I am perfectly capable of loving, thank you very much!" Mary snaps. "Bert is a dear friend and I love him as such, but nothing more." She's convincing—even _she _believes it in that moment.

Jane looks at her with an eerie sort of calm; Mary regrets giving her permission to call her by her Christian name—now they're almost equals or friends and that gives Jane the latitude to get away with saying things that are far more probing or familiar. "Prove it."

"That's hardly something that's quantifiable. And we are not talking about me, Jane Banks, so I will thank you to drop the subject. Now, concentrate on the bag of flour and tell it where to go."

Jane sighs but turns her attention to the ingredient. She snaps and, after a couple of duds, the bag rises into the air. "I still think-"

"Jane, focus!" Mary reprimands, but it's too late. Jane's concentration is broken and the lack of attention sends the bag careening to the floor. It explodes, the fine white powder coating just about everything in the kitchen—including Mary and Jane.

Mary sighs as Jane surveys the damage. There's utter silence as they both start thinking about the clean-up. "Well, _drat_," Jane curses.

Mary is surprised to find herself stifling a giggle. Then catches the young woman's eye and she can't help but start to laugh—just a chuckle at first, but it becomes louder when Jane joins in.

When the laughter loses its novelty, Mary snaps and everything is set right. "Again," she says patiently.

0ooo0

By the end of the day, Jane has almost mastered the art of snapping to make things happen. Throughout the afternoon, Jane has been peppering Mary with questions about Bert, but Mary insists that they are merely dear friends and by tea time she has tricked herself into believing that's the truth.

They move up to the old nursery and Mary pulls out her tape measure. "Again?" Jane groans but nevertheless stands up straight.

"A tape measure, or something along the same lines, can be an incredibly useful tool to get a measure of the situation you are entering," Mary instructs. "A tape measure or scale is completely objective and will give you the most accurate answer possible. You just have to know what question to ask it. Whatever question you ask it about a person, it will always tell you the truth."

Mary shows her how to ensure that the measurement is accurate and exactly how to ask the question of the tape measure without looking like a fool talking to a tape measure. She measures Jane and is pleased to note that her measurement now reads "Extremely dedicated and hard-working."

Then she allows Jane to try the tape out. Mary's posture needs no adjusting, for she always stands ramrod straight, so she waits patiently for Jane to bring the tape up to her head and recite the familiar "Mary Poppins: practically perfect in every way."

Jane pauses as she reads the inscription. "I knew it!" she finally exclaims. Mary frowns. "Oh, I just knew it!"

"Jane, kindly explain yourself."

Jane studies her teacher. "Remember, you're the one who said the tape measure doesn't lie," she suddenly defends herself.

"Of course the tape measure doesn't lie. It _can't_!" Mary huffs.

Wordlessly, Jane hands over the tape measure and grimaces before backing away. "Just remember, this is not _my _fault," she cautions.

"Of course it's not," Mary sighs. But then she looks down at her measurement and almost wants to hit Jane anyways. Or possibly faint. Or scream.

Instead she takes a deep breath and measures herself again.

Her knees almost give out when nothing has changed, so she sits down on the bed, trying to remember to breath. But every time she reads her measurement, she feels like someone has punched her in the stomach, though, perversely, her eyes are drawn to the words.

"Are you alright, Mary?" Jane asks.

"Fine. I- Please go wash up for dinner."

"Are you sure? I as if I shouldn't leave you…"

"Jane," Mary says, looking up. "I assure you, I'm fine. Please get ready for dinner."

Begrudgingly, Jane leaves, stopping at the door to glance back one more time. When she's gone, Mary begins to panic. She grabs the tape measure again and measures herself a third time. It's the exact same reading.

Her blue eyes widen as she scans it again and silently curses the absolutely objective tape measure.

The script of her name has been preserved, but the text altered, so now the words read, "Mary Poppins: in love and denial."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, I invented a tradition to serve my purpose (dinner at Uncle Albert's) and I'm kind of just running with the lore behind the magic that I made up. Please let me know if there's something you'd like to see!<strong>

**Oh, and please check out my new story "Love Won't Let You Get Away" if you're interested!**

**Hope you enjoyed. :)**

**-Juli-**


	8. When You're With A Sweep

**I hope you enjoy this! It's probably the last you'll hear from me until Tuesday at the earliest, I'm afraid. I'm about to go pay a weekend-long visit to Mary Poppins and Bert themselves (among others, of course) with one of my dearest friends! Don't worry, I'll tell them all you say hello.**

**Unfortunately, I continue to own nothing.**

* * *

><p>The door creaks open that night as Mary feared it would. She contemplates pretending to be asleep but that would be cowardly and though lately Mary has been coming face-to-face with more flaws than she knew she had, cowardice is absolutely not one of them.<p>

"Is there something I can assist you with, Jane?" she asks, sitting up.

"I just… I thought you might, well, you might want to talk."

"Jane, I am a grown woman. I am not your responsibility."

Jane takes a deep breath. "He loves you back, Mary. I just know he does."

Mary purses her lips in an attempt to keep her face straight but doesn't reply.

"Honestly, if you were to just tell him your feelings, I _know _he'd return them!"

Mary stares out the window guiltily.

Jane stops talking and looks at her old nanny. "But he's told you already, hasn't he?"

Mary jumps. When did Jane become so intuitive? And how does she answer that? "Yes," she whispers.

"Mary! What did you say?"

"That we should remain friends."

Jane sighs in exasperation. "I understand, Mary. You've had to leave so many people and you couldn't possibly let yourself love every one of them. But Bert is the one person you've never left and I just… I think that should count for something."

Mary is silent for a moment, thinking. Then she smiles gently at the girl. "You're turning into a fine young woman, Jane. I hope you continue that way. Now, good night."

"Good night, Mary Poppins."

0ooo0

The banks family attends church early Sunday morning and Mary accompanies them. When they return home, they find Patrick Dunn waiting on the stoop, nervously switching a bouquet of daisies from hand to hand. "Mr. Dunn," George greets him.

"Hello, sir. I, uh, I'm sorry about the hour, but I often take a walk after Mass and I just happened to be near Cherry Tree Lane and I thought perhaps Miss Banks would like to accompany me."

"Oh, may I, Mother?" Jane cries happily.

"_I'm _your father!" George corrects her. "I am the head of this household and if anybody should be asked for permission, it should be me!"

Jane turns her pleading eyes to him. "May I, Father?" she begs.

"I don't know. Ask your mother."

"I see no problem with it," Winifred remarks. "As long as you have a chaperone."

"Mother!" Jane whines.

"Perhaps I could be of service, ma'am," Mary interjects, stepping forward before this little spat can turn into a full-blown argument.

"Capital, capital," George says vaguely. "Mary Poppins shall accompany you."

"Now go upstairs and change out of your church clothes, dear," Winifred instructs.

Jane all but flies up the stairs and Mary follows to change into a far less formal dress.

Fifteen minutes later, Patrick offers his arm to Jane and the trio walks towards the park. Mary drifts off a little to allow Jane some space. She looks so comfortable with Patrick, laughing easily at his jokes and lightly slapping his arm playfully. Suddenly, Mary realizes that, for all Jane's hemming and hawing about marriage, if anyone in the Banks' household is closed off to love, it's Mary herself. It's a wretched revelation.

"Mary, are you alright?" Jane calls.

Mary wipes the stunned look off her face and smiles stiffly. "I'm fine."

"You were somewhere entirely different," Jane pushes.

"I assure you, I'm fine."

"Miss Banks and I were just discussing how nice it would be to add a pond to the park," Patrick explains.

Mary feels a surge of protectiveness crash over her. Yes, a pond would make the park absolutely picturesque, but it doesn't _need_ to change. It's Bert's park and it's perfect as is. "Personally, I don't see the appeal," she sniffs before her politeness gets the best of her, "Though I can see your point."

"You're quite fond of the park, aren't you, Miss Poppins?"

"I am indeed."

"I can understand why. It's quite tranquil."

Mary smiles vaguely. "It has its own sort of magic," she agrees.

They come to a screever and chimney sweep. Patrick tosses a coin into the screever's hat.

"Thank you, guv," the man says and looks up. "Why Mary Poppins!" Bert exclaims happily, standing to greet them. "And Jane! 'ow are you ladies the fine Sunday morning?"

"Just fine, thank you, Bert," Mary replies. "Let me introduce you to Mr. Patrick Dunn. Mr. Dunn, this Bert Alfred, a dear friend of mine."

"Pleased t' meet you," Bert grins. "Mary Poppins, this is Charlie Porter—one of the new sweeps."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Mary greets Charlie graciously. "I'm sorry if this seems entirely rude, but may I have a word with you privately, Bert?"

"Sure thing," he agrees, dusting off his hands on his pants.

When they're out of earshot, Mary shifts uncomfortably. "I just wanted to apologize again for last night. I truly am sorry, Bert."

"Mary Poppins," he sighs exasperatedly. "I already told you, you don't 'ave anything to be sorry for."

"But I _do_," she insists. "I've hurt you and I never intended to. Especially when I… when I-" Mary's mouth goes dry as she tries to bolster her courage. This is it, the moment she might be able to achieve everything, if only she could force herself out of her shell.

"Perhaps you should!" They hear Jane snap. Both Mary and Bert turn just in time to witness the young woman yell at Patrick's retreating back, "And don't come back until you've unfrozen whatever's left of your heart!"

"Oh dear," Mary sighs. "I need to see what that's about."

Mary all but runs to Jane's side. Jane immediately buries her face in Mary's shoulder and Mary wraps her arms around the sobbing girl. "Come now," she chides gently. "Tears do no one any good. I can hardly understand what you're trying to say. Calm down now… There's a good girl."

Jane calms down quickly, looking rather embarrassed by her outburst.

"Now, why don't you explain what brought this on?" Mary suggests, leading Jane to a bench. Bert hovers worriedly but Mary catches his eye and shakes her head almost imperceptibly, so he shoos Charlie away and they go back to his drawing.

Jane sighs. "He… well, he insulted Bert."

Mary instantly feels her own ire start to rise, but checks it quickly. "Oh?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"He said a lady like you really needs to watch herself around "characters" like Bert so people don't think of anything unseemly that might damage your reputation. So I yelled at him."

Mary bites her tongue, refusing to let Jane know how much Patrick's insinuation upsets her. "Any man who can't understand the kindness and good heart of the sweeps deserves to be left to his own folly."

"But I just… I really did like him."

"I know. But there will be others, Jane. Better men without a trace of snobbery."

"_You _can say that. You've _found _the ideal!"

Mary blushes and considers how to best respond.

"I was wondering," Bert says as he approaches, inadvertently giving Mary a way out. "If you two ladies would mind me accompanying you on the rest of your walk."

"Oh, I'd love that!" Jane exclaims without checking with Mary.

"Very well," Mary assents. "In fact," she says slyly, studying Bert's chalk drawings, "it may be time for another lesson!"

0ooo0

"Alright, now, Jane, the trick is just to envision yourself there," Mary coaches and she, Jane, Bert, and Charlie stand over one of Bert's drawings. Mary had expressed some wariness at Charlie being there, but Bert vouched for him and Bert's word is good enough for her.

Jane takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "On the count of three, we jump," she orders, trying to sound more confident than she feels. "One… two… three!"

When her eyes open, she finds that all four of them have been transported into the drawing, though Mary is primly dusting her white dress off and Bert had to side-step the lake. "Great job, Miss Banks!" Charlie calls, his voice disembodied and winded. "But maybe next time you could work on the landing."

Jane looks up and finds that Charlie has somehow ended up on the roof of the gazebo. Immediately she starts to laugh.

"Y'know, I'd find this a lot funnier if I were on the ground," he grumbles when Bert joins Jane in laughter and even Mary hides a smile behind her hand.

"Patience, Mr. Porter," Mary scolds, opening her parasol and flying up to him.

"Cor, 'ow did you-"

"Take my hand, please."

Charlie does as instructed and Mary flies him to safety.

"Miss Banks, you look… beautiful," he breathes, taking in her lilac gown and loose hair. Jane blushes prettily.

"Thank you, Mr. Porter. You don't look too bad yourself," she grins at his purple-striped coat and tan pants.

"Charlie, please."

"Shall we, Charlie?" Jane suggests, glancing at Mary and Bert.

"It'd be my pleasure, Miss Banks."

"Jane will do nicely, I think."

They walk off, leaving Bert and Mary alone. Jane has placed them in the same outfits she remembered from last time, though Mary's hat seems to have been forgotten.

"They're very familiar," Mary frowns. "Why is that? They only met today."

"Well, actually, that's not strictly true," Bert grins sheepishly.

"Not strictly true?"

"They might've met yesterday…"

"_Bert_!" she cries. "They weren't supposed to meet until now! There's an order and a way to things!"

Bert holds his hands up defensively. "Apparently, Jane doesn't like doing things in the way of things. Charlie was in a 'urry and knocked her down. I didn't 'ave time to stop 'em, so you can stop being cross with me!"

"I am never cross!" Mary insists, her voice rising as she stamps her foot.

"Then what d'you call this now, Mary?" he teases.

"I call this frustration at being in the company of a man who can't seem to follow a plan, who _insists _on being as infuriating as possible and who makes my tape measure say ridiculous things!" She had been advancing on him while she attacked him but now she falters. "Who makes me lose my thoughts and frustrates me to no end and who… who…"

"If you have something to say, Mary, by all means, say it," he encourages. Even in the face of her anger, he comes off as if he's humoring her good-naturedly in a way that would be condescending from anyone but himself.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she grabs the lapels of his red-striped jacket and kisses him hard. He's frozen for a moment but then his arms make his way around her waist and he tugs her closer.

When the world stops spinning and they finally pull away, the only sound to be heard is Mary's heavy breathing.

"That all you wanted to say?" he beams.

Mary looks horrified and wrenches out of his grasp, turning sharply and running.

"Mary! Mary, wait!" he yells as he chases her. He's got the advantage of height and a lack of heels (even sensible ones) and he catches her easily.

"I- I apologize," she sniffs. "That was terribly-"

He silences her with another kiss, one that leaves her seeing stars and quite unsteady in the knees. "I love you, Mary Poppins."

"I'm scared, Bert," she admits quietly. "It's not a pleasant emotion."

"What could _the _Mary Poppins possibly 'ave to be afraid of?" he chuckles.

She studies the ground with great intensity, tears starting to fill her eyes. "Of how much I… Of how much I love you, Bert." She looks up into his eyes when she says his name. "I, well, I've never loved anyone. Not like this. I don't… what if I mess it up?"

His smile could power the whole of Cherry Tree Lane as he hugs her and her head rests on her shoulder. "Mary, nothing you could ever do would ever make me love you any less. You can't mess it up. 'ow can I make you feel better?"

"You already have," Mary admits quietly. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realize how I've felt about you."

"No, no, I wouldn't 'ave it any other way," he assures her. Then he grins cheekily. "That was one 'ell of a kiss you planted on me!"

"Bert!" she exclaims.

"Well, it was!"

She pats her hair haughtily. "I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Don't you try to be tricky with me, Mary Poppins!" he laughs. "I'm wise to all of your tricks."

"Oh, you are, are you?" She snaps and a picnic appears.

"Seen it," he replies with a yawn.

She snaps and a bouquet of flowers appears in her hand. When she hands them to him, they reveal themselves to be butterflies. "Is it ten years ago?" he comments.

She glares. "Face it, Mary, I got wise to your tricks a long time ago," he tells her.

She grins and kisses him again—this kissing thing is fairly addicting and becoming more enjoyable the more they get in tune. "How about that one?" she inquires.

She sees the sparkle in his eye and realizes that though she's the one with the magic, Bert has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm working tirelessly to try and get this story wrapped up before I take a month-long hiatus (semi-forced… I'm going to stay with family in Europe and don't have any idea what sort of internet access I shall have). As a result, I feel like this all may feel sort of rushed (I originally had planned for so much more to happen, but it was all too much), so I'd absolutely love to hear your opinions!<strong>

**Until Next Week,  
>-Juli-<strong>


	9. You're In Glad Company

**Well, this is certainly not the direction I'd envisioned this story taking! Still, it'll do. Actually, I quite like it. And I happen to know how the rest of the story is going to go (plus, the epilogue is essentially writing itself in my head as we speak), so I'm hoping to get it done before I begin school for the year. I _am _sorry about the delay, but these things do happen...**

**As always, I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>When Mary and Bert catch up with Jane and Charlie, it's nearly three in the afternoon. Mary still has to dress for dinner at Uncle Albert's, so she insists that it's time to go. Jane sighs, but takes Charlie's and Mary's hands. Mary grabs Bert's and he squeezes, almost as if to tell her that he doesn't intend on letting her go again. Mary smiles slightly at him but says nothing. They've decided that, for the time being, they aren't going to mention any change in their relationship—not while it's still so new to them.<p>

With Mary's instruction, Jane gets them out of the drawing without mishap. Mary insists that Bert send Charlie home and that neither man walk them down the lane. Jane and Mary watch them go and when they're out of sight, Jane throws her arms around her teacher. Mary stands there, stunned. "May I ask what this is all about?" she asks after a moment.

"I'm just so happy for you!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You and Bert, you've gotten together, haven't you?" Jane says with a smirk.

"And whatever gave you that idea?" Mary asks nervously. She had thought she and Bert had done a rather decent job of covering up their new status as a couple.

"I have never seen you try so hard to look like nothing happened, Mary," Jane explains. "Besides, the drawing was on a slant and Charlie and I went up to the top. And I might have seen you kiss him."

Mary's cheeks turn rosy red. "We turned away right after that, I promise!" Jane exclaims. "But I _am _so happy for you, Mary!"

"Thank you," Mary says quietly. Then she holds her head high. "Now, that'll be enough of that! Come along, Jane."

0ooo0

"Oh, Mary, you look _wonderful_," Jane breathes that evening, studying the full effect of the outfit the two of them had been working towards the entire afternoon. She had appeared in Mary's room shortly after they had returned, offering to help with her preparations. It hadn't occurred to Mary Poppins that getting dressed was anything to worry about, but once Jane had suggested it, she felt the fluttering in her stomach that she's quickly becoming accustomed to. Jane had selected a blue gown that Mary had nearly forgotten she owned. She had even persuaded Mary to take her hair out of its customary bun and let Jane decide how to style it. After much agonizing, she had decided that Mary's hair was simply too pretty to be placed back up and she had brushed the loose waves out, tying them back with a ribbon but doing nothing more.

"Do you really think so?" Mary asks, biting her lip. Then she shakes her head; she might be nervous, but she's Mary Poppins and she is not going to act it! "Thank you, Jane."

Michael looks up from his book and lets out a long, low whistle. "Mary Poppins, if you showed up to my school looking like that, the fellows would quit teasing me about my old nanny living with us!"

"Close your mouth please, Michael. We are not a codfish."

"Well, it's true!"

Mary silences him with a look, but her heart isn't really in it. It's nice to know she looks good.

Even the other members of the house notice. Mrs. Banks comes out of her reverie long enough to notice that Mary Poppins looks stunning, then mumble something about men and insist that Mary not get too caught up in it all—after all, individually, they are quite alright, but as a group, they're rather stupid. Mary hides a smile and thanks her for the advice. Ellen and Mrs. Brill both stare at her as if she's sprouted a second head and Mrs. Brill grumbles something about getting ideas above her station, but, unless Mary is very much mistaken, it's more from force of habit than actual scorn. The longer she spends in the Banks' household, the more she realizes that she's done something here that she never quite managed before: she's become a member of the house, not just a resident. Even Mr. Banks asks her if she's done something different with her hair; in fact, she reflects, this may be the first time he's looked at her and seen a woman, not just an ambiguous sort of blob that the children deal with.

Finally she gets out of the Banks and to Uncle Albert's. "Welcome, my dear!" he exclaims. "Come in, come in!"

Mary smiles and enters the house. "Thank you."

Uncle Albert drifts off in that vague sort of way of his, off to mingle with the other guests. Mary can't help but smile fondly; he's been like a sort of father to her since her own father died and she loves him as such.

She's pleased to find that the evening's guests includes Mrs. Corry. Uncle Albert has been taking her to Mrs. Corry's shop for gingerbread since she was a little girl and if Mrs. Corry is there, that means dessert will be exquisite.

She's about to greet the woman when her eyes are covered and she can't see. "Bert, really," she scolds. He looks at her as if she might have eyes in the back of her head, which, of course, she does not—though she _could _see behind her if she really wanted to. It's really just a simple deduction. No one else in the world is comfortable enough to try and surprise Mary Poppins.

"'ello, Mary!" he greets her cheerily, not at all put out she didn't play along. "Walk with me?"

"Certainly," she assents and takes his arm. They stroll out into the small garden that Uncle Albert keeps. When they're out of sight of the party, his arms make their way around her waist and he kisses her softly.

"Well, hello to you too," she laughs breathlessly when they part.

"I don't think that's ever going to get old," he comments.

She runs a thumb over her bottom lip. "No, I don't think it ever shall." As she studies his handsome face she realizes just how silly this secrecy thing is. How could she possibly not want the world to know this wonderful man is in love with her? And it's technically not even a secret, since Jane and presumably Charlie know. "Bert, Jane knows. About us. Which means I would assume Charlie does as well."

"Well, Jane always was a smart one," he says carefully. "'ow d'you feel about it?"

"I think… I think I'm quite alright with it. In fact, I don't understand why we shouldn't share our happiness."

His grin could light the night sky; she had been the one to suggest the silence and though he had agreed, what man in his right mind _wouldn't _want the world to know Mary Poppins loves him?

She smiles back and laughs when he quite literally sweeps her off her feet, carrying her as if there were a threshold to be crossed. "Now _really_, Bert," she chides and chuckles at once. "This is unseemly!"

"I'm too 'appy, Mary, to care about seems! Or seams, for that matter!"

"You _are _lightheaded!"

"An' lighthearted!" he agrees amicably. "I love you, Mary Poppins, more than the moon an' sun an' stars."

"Now I do believe you're venturing into hyperbole, Bert. Kindly set me down, will you?"

"Mary Poppins, this may be pressing my advantage, but I don't think I'm so inclined at the moment!"

"Bert, let me go!"

"Oh no," he responds easily. "Now that I've finally got you, there's no way I'm ever letting you go again."

"Bert…"

"Alright, alright. Just 'old your 'orses." He sets her down gently on a stair. With her on the step above him, they're equals in height. "There you go."

"Thank you," she coughs and starts to move around him. He gets in her way and tenderly grabs her wrist. She looks up into his eyes and nearly loses her breath, there's so much love there. "Bert-"

"Mary, I meant what I said."

"Bert-"

"I love you an' I know you love me an' I know that should be enough. But… but it's not. I mean it _is_, but it's not. I don't… We've wasted so much time running around each other an' I don't want to miss you again. An' now that Jane is going to take over for you, you know she will, it just seems… well, perfect."

"I don't-"

"Marry me, Mary Poppins. Marry me an' make me the 'appiest man in the 'istory of the world. Marry me an' I'll try to do the same for you."

Her eyes spring open in surprise. Of all the things he might have said, she never would have expected that. "Bert, I-"

"Don't say no, Mary," he pleads. "You don't 'ave to say yes, but don't say no."

Her breath comes in short, shallow bursts. He looks so nervous, so _earnest_. They've only just been honest about their feelings today. But, a rebellious part of her mind thinks, how long has she felt this way? For over ten years now, at the very least. And he's presumably felt the same for an identical amount of time or longer. He's loved her in silence for more than a decade; how can she possibly ask him to wait for her any longer? Still… marriage. She's not even sure she knows how to be in love and she's _certain _she has no idea how to be someone's wife. _His_ wife.

"I… I…" she stammers.

His face falls and her heart breaks. "I'm sorry, Mary," he apologizes. "Just got caught up in the moment. Forget I said anything."

_His _heart is broken and _he's _the one immediately trying to comfort her. There is not a kinder, more compassionate, more wonderful man in the world.

"I most certainly will not," she disagrees, finally finding her voice.

"Eh?"

"I will not forget you said anything. Bert, it would be an honor to call myself your wife."

"What?"

"Of course, it can't happen immediately, not until Jane is ready. And I'll probably have to still take a few of the really difficult cases after that, but it shouldn't take too long. We'll need some place to call home after the wedding and, well, I _will_ need a dress, I suppose."

Her planning is interrupted when she's swept up into his arms again and into a very passionate kiss. "I love you, Mary Poppins."

She laughs. "I believe we just went through this. Now, don't you think it's about time we share our good fortune with the others?"

They head back inside. More people have arrived, friendly faces that Mary is glad to see after so long. Bert grabs them both flutes of champagne.

"Quiet please!" Uncle Albert suddenly calls, tapping his glass with a knife. "Quiet!"

The crowd settles down.

Uncle Albert raises his glass towards Mary. "I'd just like to offer a toast to my niece, Mary Poppins, who has returned to us after far too long. May you find happiness and joy here, my dear!"

"To Mary Poppins!" everyone choruses and Mary blushes.

Before the crowd can adjourn to the dining room, Bert clears his throat. "Bert…" Mary says warily.

"Excuse me," he calls loudly. "Sorry, but I just want to add a few more things to Uncle Albert's lovely toast."

Mary's eyes widen as she realizes his exact plan. Everyone else smiles, knowing that Bert is never one to skimp on compliments to the lovely Mary Poppins.

"Mary Poppins is practically perfect," he begins, sending a cheeky smile her way. The crowd murmurs their agreement and Mary feels her face start to burn. "She is the kindest, gentlest, sweetest woman I've ever known. An' I think you'll all agree with me when I say my life is better for knowing 'er. But I'm sorry to say, my life is about to get infinitely better than all of yours combined. Because just now, a few minutes ago, Mary Poppins agreed… that is… she…"

Mary steps in before the speech can get too rapturous or muddled. "Bert and I are engaged to be married," she announces in a clear voice.

There's a roar of joy in the room. It takes both Mrs. Corry and Mrs. Lark to make sure Uncle Albert doesn't soar right up to the ceiling. Everybody shoves their way towards the couple, eager to make their congratulations heard.

Mary doesn't hear any of it; she's too busy smiling at the man she's just promised to spend the rest of her very long life with.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed!<strong>

**-Juli-**


	10. I Like What I Do

**Look! I'm alive! Sorry this took me so long; school has started back up and that means my life is not my own anymore. I barely have time to breathe, let alone write. But rest assured, I'm working really, really hard to finish everything and write everything I want to! We're getting really close to the end of this! I'm thinking one, maybe two chapters more.**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>Jane nearly accosts her when she comes home. For once, Mary is glad to see the girl up and waiting for her. After the initial shock had worn off from her rather sudden engagement, she couldn't wait to get back to Cherry Tree Lane to get Jane's opinion on it all.<p>

"Oh, Mary, how was it?" Jane asks, fidgeting as she clearly has something to say. Mary opens her mouth but Jane cuts her off. She does that sometimes, Mary notes. When she gets too excited, she tends to forget anyone else. "I'm sure it was _wonderful_. Bert was there, wasn't he? Charlie said he was."

Alarm bells go off in Mary's head. "And just _what _exactly were you doing with Mr. Porter this evening?"

"Oh really, Mary. You like him just as much as I do and don't pretend otherwise."

"No, Jane," Mary replies, the knowledge washing over her slowly. "No, I don't think I do."

"You don't like Charlie?" Jane frowns.

"I have absolutely nothing against him. He seems like a fine person, but I don't think I like him nearly as much as _you_."

Jane flushes. "He's a very kind man. The sort who… oh, I don't know! I just know I can't stop thinking about him!" She gives a girlish twirl, flinging her arms out to her sides.

Mary feels sadness pierce through her previously invincible happiness. She can't deny Jane the opportunity to feel like this, not when she feels so similarly. But there are rules and if they are broken, there will be repercussions. And if Jane chooses, well, the life Mary now wants desperately over the life Mary has now, that leaves Mary in a rather awful mess.

"So, how was the dinner?" Jane asks again, this time with an invested twinkle in her eye.

Mary smiles back dully. "It was lovely." She doesn't give any more information than that.

Jane frowns but doesn't push it. Soon she leaves Mary's room for her own.

Mary sighs. She needs to talk to her fiancé.

0ooo0

For the second time in seven days, Mary is up long before the sun. This time she doesn't waste time frittering about—she's out of bed in seconds, dressed minutes later and completely ready to leave the house just as the sun is beginning to rise. She uses to banister to go downstairs and avoid the squeaky steps, closing the front door quietly behind her.

Even with the rising sense of apprehension in her stomach, she can't but smile when she sees a familiar figure putting out the streetlights as the sun's rays timidly begin to light the street. She's suddenly glad Cherry Tree Lane has been so incredibly reluctant to switch their streetlamps to electric; it means her journey is far shorter than anticipated. "This is a new occupation, Bert," she comments mildly as she approaches. "Even for you."

"Buddy of mine needed some 'elp," he shrugs, making sure he's fully extinguished the light. A quick glance around confirms his suspicion that no one else is awake yet, so he kisses her lips before she can protest. "Figure I could use any extra money I can get now."

She bites her lips. "Bert, I-"

Even his seemingly permanent grin falters. "Mary, are you feeling alright? You're not regretting saying yes already, are you?" he asks self-consciously. "I was 'oping you'd at least wait until after the wedding to start resenting me!"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course I don't resent you," she insists. "I'm just… I'm unsure if there can _be_ a wedding."

"Mary, love, you're not making sense."

With extreme difficulty, she stays collected as she relays the giddiness with which Jane talks about Charlie. "Bert, it's not funny! I'll thank you to _stop smiling_!"

He sends her his trademark boyish grin and pulls her into a hug. "Mary, it'll be alright. You know it will."

"But if she falls in love…"

He grins. "So she's falling for 'er sweep. Wouldn't be the first time that's 'appened, now would it?" He raises and eyebrow and tilts her chin up so she sees him smile.

"That's different," she replies perfunctorily. "Bert, if she falls in love and wants to get married, I can't- I _won't _ask her to give that up. And that would mean-"

"So we wait," he shrugs easily. "Mary I'd wait another 'undred years if I 'ad to. But I think you should just talk to Jane, explain your concerns. She loves you, Mary, she won't do anything she know'll 'urt you."

"But I don't want her to be thinking of me! It's _her _decision!"

"You're important to 'er, Mar, whether you like it or not, an' you're going to make a difference in her decision."

She smiles thankfully. "You always know exactly what to say."

"What can I say? Years of practice."

Her eyes flash playfully. "But I'll thank you to _not _call me Mar."

"Come on," he says. "We best get you 'ome, in case someone thinks you've been out all night… Mar."

0ooo0

She sneaks back into the Banks' home without any mishap. Later that morning, she pokes her head into the sitting room where Michael is reading and Jane is stabbing at a piece of linen in what appears to be an attempt at embroidery. "Jane," she says, inclining her head to the stairs. "When you have a moment, join me, if you please."

"Ooh, Jane," Michael sings, "you're in _trouble_!"

Jane surveys him coolly. "I do hope you're planning on getting some sort of fresh air today, Michael. You're looking rather pale. In fact, I think perhaps you should go fly a kite!"

She follows Mary upstairs and into the nursery. "Mary, is everything alright?"

"Jane, it's… it's imperative that I know your intentions regarding Mr. Porter."

"You mean, as in, romantically?" Jane frowns.

Mary's cheeks flush. "Yes," she says quietly.

"I don't have any intentions, as you put it, though I don't think it's any of your business!"

"On the contrary," Mary replies, "it's entirely my business."

"Excuse me?"

She sighs. "Jane, we need to have another talk."

"Oh, now I suppose you'll be telling me that fairies exist and there's really a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow."

Mary smiles. "Nothing like that. I'd actually like to tell you a story."

Jane grins and collapses into a chair. "Well," she sighs. "If you must, I suppose you must."

0ooo0

"_Mary, concentrate!" Miss Sanders snaps, shoving a piece of sandy blonde hair behind her ear impatiently._

If I concentrate any harder, _nineteen-year-old Mary thinks, gritting her teeth behind pursed lips, _my head shall explode.

"_Oh, it will do no such thing," Miss Sanders says with a roll of her eyes. "Kindly disabuse yourself of that notion. Now, I want you to focus on the feeling of the umbrella in your palm, the wind in your hair. And just for one instant, feel yourself relinquish that control you've worked so hard to gain. Allow yourself to let go, feel free, and suddenly, you will…" She trails off as her feet leave the ground._

_By mid-afternoon, Mary has mastered the art of lifting off the ground. However, her control over her movement is still rather unimpressive. On her final flight of the day, a gust of the wind sends her focus flying and her body careening into, most embarrassingly, into the body of another person._

"_Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaims, mortified, as he steadies her._

"_S'alright, miss! T'weren't 'ardly a bump."_

"_Mary, really, you might at least _attempt _some sort of control over your direction!" Miss Sanders scolds as she approaches. "Why, hello, Mr. Alfred. I see you've met Miss Poppins. Mary, this is Bert Alfred, the apprentice of a dear friend of mine."_

"_Pleased to meet ya, Miss Poppins," Bert grins convivially._

_She blushes for no discernible reason. "The pleasure's all mine."_

_They speak for another few minutes and then Miss Sanders insists they return home. Throughout the next few weeks, they run into the young man over and over again, and he and Mary just seem to immediately understand each other, though oftentimes Mary has to ignore a weird sort of fluttering in her stomach._

_One day, Miss Sanders asks her opinion of Mr. Bert Alfred. Mary responds favorably but carefully, unsure of why her impression is so important. She asks a question to that effect._

_Miss Sanders explains that though it might seem as if a magical nanny works alone, she doesn't. For every magical nanny, there is a partner- her opposite and complement to keep her grounded._

_Being paired with someone so matched to your temperament, she explains further, and working so closely with them to see a family succeed can be a heady combination—one that might lead to fairly disastrous circumstances. For the same reason that a nanny can't become emotionally attached to a normal man, she can't fall for her sweep._

"_I think you and Mr. Alfred are certainly well-matched, but I've also noticed a certain, shall we say, spark and if it will be an issue, I'd like to find you someone else."_

_Mary refuses adamantly, certain that nothing persuade her from her mission and that she enjoys Bert's company far too much to allow their separation._

_Before Miss Sanders sees Mary off on her first job, she offers one last piece of advice—one that makes Mary's cheeks burn in embarrassment—Be careful, for no one will hire an unchaste nanny, no matter how magical she might be._

0ooo0

"Wait," Jane says, "so Charlie would be my sweep?"

"If you'd like."

"I think I would."

"And you really don't mind about-"

"Mary, I've known this entire time that if I agree to this, I won't be allowed a family. That doesn't scare me. I've always felt I was meant for something beyond marrying and becoming a mother and I want to do real good. Besides, you and Bert seem to have figured it out. I'll pay my dues. I can wait. I just don't understand why you're telling me this now."

Mary takes a deep breath. "Jane, Bert and I… that is… last night, Bert proposed and I… I accepted."

"Oh, Mary!" Jane squeals in excitement, clapping her hands together. "That's wonderful! Congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Oh, I do hope you'll let me help with the wedding. You _are _having a wedding, aren't you? I mean, of course you are, but I mean a big one with lots of friends and family. Oh, this is just so exciting!"

Jane continues to babble on and Mary feels herself relax, finally allowing herself to believe that everything will be alright.

* * *

><p><strong>I know it's not my best, but I hope you enjoyed it!<strong>

**-Juli-**


	11. Nowhere is There a More Happier Crew

**Oh my goodness, I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I'm about two weeks away from finals week, so my life is pretty much eat, sleep, and school. But I have one more chapter of this story to write and then it's finished!**

**I, as always, own nothing. I did watch The Sound of Music, both Princess Diaries, and Mary Poppins in the last two weeks though. So I've got that going for me.**

* * *

><p>"Matilda Donahue, if you don't put that down in the next three seconds…" Jane's voice holds a rather severe warning.<p>

Matilda—Tillie when she's not in trouble—drops the plate immediately. Jane winces, acknowledging that she should have added the word carefully to the end of her instructions. "Oops!" Tillie exclaims.

"No matter," Jane says, takes a deep breath and snaps. The shards reassemble and meld themselves back together. Jane smiles, pleased with her handiwork. The snapping thing is becoming exponentially easier with time and practice. "Now, please go change out of your play clothes."

"Why?"

"We're going on an outing. Or at least _I _am going on an outing. _You _are welcome to join me."

"I don't want to!" Tillie sulks. "I want to stay and play with my dolls."

"Suit yourself," Jane shrugs. "Enjoy your dolls."

She pulls out her yellow chiffon gown and closes the door that separates her room from the playroom. When she exits, Tillie looks at her with a frown. "You didn't tell me that you were getting dressed up," she accuses Jane, eyes narrowed.

"You might, as well," Jane sighs cavalierly. "But I'm sure your dolls are more interesting company than Charlie and I could ever hope to be."

"Charlie will be there?" Tillie asks, her eyes lighting up like it's Christmas morning. Jane smiles, knowing that the seven-year-old has fallen victim to the sweep's considerable charm and is deep in the throes of puppy love.

"Mmhmm," she hums. "But I'm sure your dolls will be marvelous company."

"I want to come!" the little girl cries.

"There is a blue dress on your bed. Go put it on, please. We must leave soon."

Jane follows the girl to her room and helps with the buttons on the dress and her coat. Then she snatches her still fairly new umbrella. "Hold on now," she directs Tillie and opens the umbrella. "This will be much faster than walking."

0ooo0

Jane knocks on the heavy wood door, glancing down at Tillie. "Where's Charlie?" the little girl whines, tugging at Jane's hand.

"He has a very important job to do today," Jane explains. "We'll see him later."

"But-"

"Tillie, he has a job to do and so do I. Now do behave yourself; you're about to meet one of my dearest friends."

The door swings open. "Oh good, you're here!" someone exclaims as feminine hands yank them inside.

"Of course I'm here," Jane laughs. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be!"

"And who might this be?"

"Tillie Donahue, may I introduce Miss Mary Poppins? Mary, this is Tillie."

Mary bends down, her movement slightly impeded by the tight fit of the delicate lace sleeves on her high-collared white dress. "Hmmm…" she hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin and squinting her eyes as she studies the girl. "What are her measurements?"

"Prone to giggling and doesn't put things away," Jane recites, raising an eyebrow at the child.

Mary's eyes light up with mirth. "You've found a kindred spirit then. Well, she's not as turned out as I would like, but still, there's time. There's time."

"She only put on the dress just before we came. Her dolls were quite interesting and dramatic today."

"Lillian is going to the doll hospital," Tillie explains. "Margaret got jealous of her dress and pushed her off the bed."

"My goodness!" Mary exclaims. "Well, I agree they do sound like marvelous company, but perhaps you might do me a favor."

Tillie squints suspiciously. "Maybe…"

"You see," Mary says, "I'm getting married today and I'm in need of a flower girl. Have you ever been in a wedding before?"

"No," Tillie says sadly, sure this fact will disqualify her. Then she brightens up. "But my cousin got married when I was four! I'm seven now."

"My! Then it seems you have plenty of experience. This is Mrs. Corry." Mary smiles at the woman she's known forever. "She'll give you instructions. Thank you very much, Tillie!"

Tillie grins her gap-toothed smile. "You're welcome, Miss Poppins! Oh, and Miss Poppins?"

"Yes, Miss Tillie?"

"I like your dress. You look like a princess."

"Thank you! Now, off you go. I must speak with your nanny." Tillie skips off happily and Mary turns to Jane. "She's coming along quite nicely."

"Yes, she is. She would barely speak when I was first hired. Losing her father was quite difficult on her. But enough of work. Mary, you're getting married!"

"So I've heard," Mary smiles wryly. "I _am _so glad you made it."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything, you know that."

"I appreciate that more than you know."

"Let me help you with your hair," Jane offers. Mary assents and sits down in front of the mirror. Suddenly Jane's face loses every bit of the maturity that it has gained in the past year and a half as a nanny. "Mary, what's it like?" she asks, sounding exactly like the eighteen-year-old who would let Mary brush her hair.

"I beg your pardon?" Mary meets her eyes in the mirror.

"Being in love," Jane clarifies. "Getting married."

Mary turns around with a smile and clasps Jane's hand in her own. "It is the most wonderful, terrifying thing I've ever done."

Jane squeezes her hand. "You're going to be wonderful." She frowns when she sees her old nanny's eyes glistening. "Mary, what's the matter?"

Mary smiles. "Nothing," she sniffs. "Absolutely nothing."

"Then why are you-"

"I'm just… happy."

"Oh, Mary," Jane smiles and hugs the older woman. "I'm happy for you!"

Mary straightens and dashes away her tears. "Have you been to see Bert yet?" she asks.

"No. I was going to, but if you need me to stay…"

"No, no. He'll be thrilled to see you. Please go."

"If you're sure…"

"Go, Jane," Mary laughs. "I'm perfectly capable of dealing with a few moments by myself."

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Jane promises.

She taps politely on the door she's ascertained houses Bert and those helping to get him ready. It swings open and Jane gasps in delight. "Charlie!" she exclaims happily.

"Well, if it isn't Jane Banks," he grins.

She smacks him in the chest. "You told me you wouldn't be here until the reception."

"An' you told me you 'it like a girl, so we're both liars. That 'urt, Jane!"

"I _do _hit like a girl. Perhaps you're just sensitive."

"'ey!"

"Hay is for horses, Charlie Porter."

"Alright, you two, break it up," Bert laughs, coming to the door. "Crikey, sometimes I think Mary should come an' nanny the two of you!"

Jane chuckles and kisses his cheek. "You look handsome, Bert."

"Y'think," he asks, jokingly preening, but Jane can see the nerves behind all the jokes.

"Quite dashing. Once people stop looking at Mary, they won't be able to keep their eyes off of you," she jokes.

"'ow anybody could stop looking at Mary is beyond me," Bert says earnestly.

Jane grins. "You both are going to be so happy. I just know it."

"So 'ow are things going? Charlie was just telling me about Tillie."

"She's an 'andful, that one," Charlie asserts.

"Oh, Charlie," Jane sighs. "She just wants what any of us want. She just wants to know she's loved."

"Know 'ow she feels," Charlie mumbles.

"Jane, you sound more like Mary Poppins every day," Bert comments.

Jane gives him a knowing smile. "She won't be Mary Poppins for long."

"That's right," Charlie laughs. "In just a few more minutes, she'll be Mary Alfred."

Bert shakes his head with a grin. "Mary Poppins will always be Mary Poppins."

Jane checks the time. "I should be heading back. I'll see you gentlemen in a few minutes."

She sweeps out of the room. Her sweep follows her. "Jane!" Charlie calls. She turns. "I just wanted to say… What you were saying about Tillie… I… well, I know 'ow she feels, wondering if she's loved."

"Charlie," Jane says warily.

"No, Jane, I… I'm just saying I understand what you meant."

Jane smiles and takes a deep breath before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "You _are _loved, Charlie Porter," she whispers.

"So are you, Jane Banks," he replies, squeezing her back. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead. There's a moment of silence before he moves on and kisses the tip of her nose. Jane's breath catches in her throat and she all but stops breathing. Still, when no objection comes from her mouth, he softly presses his lips to hers.

She kisses him back but then pulls away. "Charlie, we can't."

"Where, Jane?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where does it say we can't be together? Where in that imaginary rulebook in your 'ead does it say that?"

"I have to be able to leave, Charlie. I can't… If we were to… I couldn't. Please understand."

"Then I'll wait," he declares.

"What?"

"I'll wait until you're ready. I don't mind."

"But-"

"Jane, one day I want to be standing at that alter an' I want you to be the one walking down that aisle towards me. So I'll wait until whenever that is. An' if you want to give this a go now, you _know _I'll always find you when you're off. An' I'll never ask you to stay. I just don't want to wait ten years to know 'ow you feel about me."

"Oh, Charlie."

"Well, I've said my piece. I'll go back to 'elp Bert."

Jane springs forward and pulls him in for another kiss. "Today is supposed to be about Mary and Bert," she says. "But I suppose it can be a little about us. I just… I don't want to lose you, Charlie. But I love my work."

"I'd never ask you t' give it up, Jane! Even if it means seeing you only every other week. Even if it were every other year. It makes you too 'appy."

"Thank you," Jane blushes.

"I think we'd best get back to the wedding." He kisses her cheek. "I'll see you in there."

0ooo0

Jane glances across the alter to where Charlie stands and smiles. Then she looks out over the guests and catches Michael's eye. He gives her a corny thumbs-up and she nearly laughs aloud.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Mary says quietly and places the ring she holds onto Bert's finger. Bert repeats her actions.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Uncle Alfred beams. "You may kiss the bride."

Jane can practically see Mary's knees turn to jelly as Bert very sweetly kisses her absolutely silly.

Uncle Albert starts floating up to the ceiling. Jane and Charlie quickly grab his ankles and pull him back down to earth.

Tillie tugs on Jane's dress. "Did I do a good job?" she whispers.

"The flowers were beautiful, Tillie. Absolutely perfect. Thank you."

Tillie's beam could light up a room, but it's not even a flicker compared to Mary and Bert's faces when Uncle Albert announces them for the first time as husband and wife.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed! I'm going to try really, really hard to actually write the next (and final!) chapter very soon!<strong>

**Love Always,  
><strong>**-Juli-**


	12. What's To Happen

**Oh my goodness, it's done. That is… amazing. And a little sad. I just want to say thank you to **_**everyone **_**for being so warm and welcoming and leaving such wonderful reviews. I appreciate them beyond what words can actually say. I promise, this is not the last you'll hear of me when it comes to Mary Poppins!**

**I still own nothing.**

* * *

><p>"Congratulations, Mrs. Alfred," Jane grins later, squeezing Mary's hand.<p>

Mary's eyes narrow. "There's something different about you, Jane. Don't think I don't notice."

"It's nothing," Jane denies, shaking her head. "Today is your day."

"Jane…"

"Mary Alfred, for once in your life, could you have a selfish bone somewhere in your body?" Jane exclaims.

"Uh-oh," Bert says, approaching and wrapping his arm around his new wife's waist. "I leave you alone for one minute an' you're already in trouble."

"Well, look at her!" Mary exclaims, flinging an arm in Jane's direction. "She's practically glowing!"

Jane sends a pointed look to Bert. "Will you ask your wife to enjoy your wedding day? And that I am _not _glowing?"

Bert laughs and holds his hands up. "I've learned to stay out of anything involving the two of you. I never know 'ow it's going to end up, but it usually ends with one or more of you mad at me."

"Jane, you _are _going to tell me," Mary states.

Jane looks at Bert again. "Will you kiss your wife and make her be quiet, please?"

"Gladly," he grins and pulls her face gently to him. Her eyes flutter closed. "That'll never get old," he comments when they part.

"No, I don't believe it shall. Now what did you want to tell you me, Jane?" Mary asks, her eyes sparkling as she turns back to her friend.

Jane shakes her head stubbornly.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Mr. Porter, would it?" Mary teases.

Jane's cheeks flush.

Bert laughs. "Mary, love, I do believe you've 'it the nail on the 'ead!"

"I- I... Fine," Jane sighs. "You caught me. But it won't affect my work. If anything, it can only help."

Mary and Bert glance at each other.

"I know you're disappointed in me, Mary, but please say something," Jane begs.

Taking just about everyone by surprise, including herself, Mary rushes forward and pulls Jane into a tight hug. "Nothing you could ever do," she promises, "would make me disappointed in you. I am _so _proud of the woman you've become, Jane."

Jane's cheeks flush bright red. "You're not angry with me?"

Mary laughs. "Jane, this is the happiest day of my life; even if I _wanted _to, I couldn't be angry. And I would never deny you the chance to be as happy as I am right now."

A teary-eyed Jane looks over at Bert. "You've just married the best woman in the entire world. You know that, right?"

Mary demurs prettily but Bert nods seriously. "I do."

0ooo0

"Benjamin, calm down!" Jane winces as the screaming little boy's fist makes contact with her stomach.

"No!" he wails, "I don't want to go to bed! I don't wanna go to sleep! No, no, no, _no!_"

"Benjamin Christopher Robbins, if you don't calm down this minute…"

"You're awful! I _hate _you!"

It takes all of Jane's willpower not to flinch. Finally, she manages to strong arm the little boy into bed and wrestle him to sleep. Once she's sure he's asleep, she smoothes his hair fondly when he's got his teddy bear tucked under one arm and his thumb in his mouth—suddenly he becomes innocent of all the bruises she has. Satisfied he's out, she slips out of the house and rushes to a small, but picturesque white house.

"Jane?" Mary asks groggily, answering the door in her dressing gown, her hair tumbling down her back.

"Mary, love, are you coming back to bed?" Bert asks from the top of the stairs. "'Oo's at the door?"

"I'm sorry," Jane apologizes, "I just… I… I don't think I can do this."

"I think you'd better come in," Mary says, pushing the door open wider to allow her entrance. "Bert, it sounds like tea might be in order. Will you-"

"Already on me way," Bert responds, coming down the stairs and kissing her cheek. He heads to the kitchen while Mary and Jane go into a sitting room right off the hall.

"I've tried everything," Jane explains. "_Everything _I can think of. He just seems determined to be the most disagreeable child ever. I just… I get so _frustrated_. I can't even start because I don't know how. I feel like I'm not doing any good. Maybe… maybe I wasn't cut out for this."

Mary pushes an errant lock of hair out of Jane's face. "Jane, I've never met anyone more cut out for nanny-ing than you. Other than myself, of course."

A small laugh escapes Jane's lips. But then she goes back to being morose. "It doesn't feel like it." Bert comes into the room and sets the tea tray down. "It feels as if I've let you down."

Mary sighs. "How many times must I tell you that you simply cannot let me down before you finally believe me? I am so proud of you." She nods at her husband. "We both are."

"Jane," Bert speaks up. "D'you remember when you were just a little slip of a girl an' you an' Michael ran away from the bank?"

"You found us," Jane remembers.

"D'you remember what I said?"

Jane purses her lips in thought. "Something about cages, I believe."

"An' about 'oo is taking care of you. Jane, 'ave you asked Charlie for 'elp?"

"I don't want to trouble him," Jane grumbles.

"Jane, his entire _job _is to be troubled by you!" Mary laughs.

Bert laughs his agreement.

Jane flushes. "I just don't think I'm very good at this." Her voice is wracked with uncertainty.

Mary sighs. "Jane, you are so intelligent but sometimes you can really be quite daft! Being good at something isn't naturally knowing everything there is to know. It means knowing when to ask for help."

"I think… I think I need help, Mary. I can't do this by myself."

"There," Mary nods in satisfaction. "Then we'll go tomorrow. But for now, drink your tea."

Jane smiles and settles back into the sofa. She loves spending time in Mary and Bert's new home with them. All of the furniture is immaculately arranged and when it's cold, there always seems to be a fire in the fireplace. More importantly, Mary and Bert always seem incredibly happy to welcome her into their home. They always make time for and give her their full attention. She loves watching the way they interact; when they are in the present of polite company, you would have to flat out ask if they were married to find out if anything in their friendship had ever changed. However, in the privacy of their own home, in the presence of loved ones, they aren't entirely shy about showing affection. Bert will sometimes take Mary's hand and bring it to his lips or Mary will sometimes look at him with so much love that it seems like her heart might just explode from all the love contained there.

Bert sits down, smiling at Mary as he sits next to her. She leans in to him and Jane feels badly about interrupting time they had clearly intended on spending together. She stands. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you've done for me. I really should be going though. No, no," she says quickly, holding up a hand as both Mary and Bert start to stand and protest. "I've already imposed on you for too long as it is. I'm sure you were… off to bed." There's just a small smirk playing on Jane's lips when she says that, certain that the pair might have been going to bed, but certainly not going to sleep.

Mary's eyes spring open. "Jane!" she exclaims in shock, knowing full well what Jane is implying and coloring in embarrassment no matter how true the insinuation might be.

"What?" Jane laughs. "I'm twenty-one; I most certainly know what goes on between a man and a woman when they're married." She sees Mary frown and Bert's face start to cloud over protectively. "_Theoretically_," she corrects quickly.

"I should hope so!" Mary snaps.

"I promise," Jane says, smiling sweetly. "My honor and reputation are in no way in jeopardy."

Mary looks at her sternly. "Keep it that way."

"_Goodnight_, Mary," Jane says pointedly, "Goodnight, Bert."

"I'll come meet you at the house in the morning," Mary instructs. "Do have them leave the kitchen door unlocked for me. We'll set to work on your troublemaker immediately."

"I'll see you in the morning," Jane grins. "Thank you for all of your help."

Bert and Mary walk her to the door. "You know we'd do anything for you, Jane," Bert says, wrapping his arm around Mary's waist. His wife smiles up at him adoringly.

"I do," Jane nods.

"Talk to Charlie, Jane," Mary directs gently. "You'll have to trust him with everything if this is to work. Professionally and romantically."

"Goodnight, Mary," Jane laughs. "Goodnight, Bert."

0ooo0

Jane exits the house, wrapping a scarf around her neck and shoving gloved hands into the pocket of her heavy wool coat. Her golden hair spills out from a white cap and her cheeks are rosy in the cold. Her new charges run up ahead, their breath smoking from their mouths, turning them into little chimneys.

"Jane!" they call. "Come skating with us!"

"In a moment," she responds. "Go on ahead."

She stops to purchase hot chestnuts and grins when she sees who is selling them. "Well, hello, Mr. Porter," she smiles.

"Miss Banks," he nods. "I see the Jacobs children are coming along."

She looks a little sad, but hides it behind a brilliant smile. "They'll have no need of me in a week or so."

He reaches out and squeezes her hand. "They'll miss you. They all do."

"It doesn't make it easier," she sighs. "You're lucky. _You _don't have to have them crying while you pack."

He looks around, makes sure no one is watching, then pulls her off into a secluded cranny of the park where they can keep an eye on the children but where few people can see them. He tugs her into a hug and she sighs, resting her head on his shoulder. "You do an amazing job with 'em, Jane," he whispers. "An' I don't know 'ow you do it all the time. It'll always be a mystery to me."

She sniffs. "Thank you."

He pecks her lips sweetly. "I love you, Jane Banks."

Jane's breath catches in her throat. She's known about his feelings since they had decided to try to make it work, but this is the first time he's actually said the words. "I… I…"

"Well, looks like somebody else 'ad the same idea we did, Mary!"

Jane turns around and smiles when she sees Bert standing with his wife. He's got a coat on that Jane is sure Mary made him wear and his jaunty red scarf wound carelessly around his neck. Mary looks like a perfect china doll in a bright emerald green coat.

"Hello, Jane. Charlie. So nice to see you again," Mary smiles.

Jane blushes. "You too, Mary. We were just-"

"I can't imagine your mother would be happy to know you're here un-chaperoned," Mary chides and Jane suddenly gets nervous. She may be twenty-two, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about what her mother thinks! Mary's eyes sparkle. "So it's really quite lucky that I'm certainly not going to tell her," she continues.

Jane glares at her friend. "Has anyone ever told you that you're cruel, Mary Alfred?"

Mary thinks about it. "I don't believe cruel has ever been used before."

"Jane, Mary an' I are 'aving a Christmas party on Christmas Eve," Bert interrupts. "You an' Charlie are invited of course."

Mary smiles encouragingly. "We'd love it if you were there."

Charlie and Jane look at each other. "We'll be there," they say in unison.

0ooo0

Jane smiles, looking around at the crowd gathered at the Alfred home. She's already seen her parents wandering through the living room.

"Jane!"

She turns and grins when she sees her little brother dressed up in a suit. He looks quite dashing, but even now his bow tie is just the tiniest bit crooked. "Michael!"

"I want you to meet someone," he says, bringing forward a lovely brunette with sparkling brown eyes behind corrective lenses. "Jane, this is Christine. Christine, my sister Jane."

Jane's eyebrows shoot into her hairline. "It's… It's nice to meet you," she stutters, recognizing the look of adoration on Michael's face as he looks at the girl.

"You as well," she smiles, offering her hand.

Jane takes it with a grin. "I hope you'll allow me to steal my brother away from you for a moment. Simply some sibling business we must take care of."

"Of course! I'll be at the punch bowl, Michael." Jane smiles when she sees the adoration in Michael's face reflected in Christine's. Jane links arms with her brother and tugs him along. "So…" she starts, dragging the word out. "Who is she?"

"Who is who?"

"This Christine girl! Who is she, Michael? How did you meet? _When _did you meet her? Why didn't you tell me?"

Michael laughs. Jane notices the way his voice has changed in the past few years and wonders how she had seemingly missed that. Her little brother is no longer little. In fact, he'll be twenty-one come March. She doesn't remember him ever getting older than about ten years old and now he's bringing dates to Mary and Bert's annual Christmas party.

"Library," Michael says suddenly, cutting through her barrage of questions.

"Pardon?"

"We met at the library. She wanted the same book I did."

Jane groans. "That is so… sickeningly adorable."

"As if you're one to talk!" Michael exclaims. "You literally fell head over heels for Charlie the first time you met! Speaking of Charlie, where is he?"

"Oh, he's around," Jane says vaguely. They arrived together so she knows he's here. But right now, she wants to focus on the girl who is making her brother sound like a grown-up. "So is it serious? You and Christine?"

Michael's face flushes and Jane's eyes spring open and she grins. "Oh! Well then."

Michael mumbles something unintelligible.

"What was that?" she teases.

"I, uh… well…" Michael stammers. Eventually he just reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. Jane gasps.

"Michael!"

But before they can continue their conversation, they hear Mary say, "No. Absolutely not. Not."

"Oh, come on, Mar," Bert wheedles.

"I love you, Bert, but no, absolutely no."

Jane frowns and motions for Michael to be quiet.

"Mary-"

"You'd have her flying with the stars, Bert! It needs to be more sensible than that. Something that can be lived up to."

Bert takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "You're right, Mary. I think everybody is 'ere. You want to tell 'em?"

She takes a deep breath. "Absolutely."

Jane and Michael look at each other and trail the couple to the middle of the house. "'Scuse me!" Bert yells above the din of the party. He yells it a couple of time to little effect.

"Pardon me, everyone. I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd all settle down." Mary's voice isn't nearly as loud as Bert's, but everyone quiets down anyways.

"Family, friends," Bert says grandly. "First of all, Mary an' I would like to say welcome to our 'ome and Merry Christmas!" Everyone applauds politely. "This season is about being together with all of those you care about an' that's why Mary an' I invited you tonight. Well, mostly. Christmas is a time of joy and Mary an' I have some of our own to share with all of you. You might 'ave noticed my lovely wife 'ere 'asn't indulged in any eggnog or champagne tonight."

Suddenly, Jane understands exactly what is going on and feels a grin start to form on her face.

"What Bert is trying, very long-windedly I might add," Mary continues, sending a teasing look at her husband, "is that I am… _we _are expecting a child."

Jane flies towards Mary before the rush of people can get to her and sweeps her old nanny into a bone-crushing hug. "Congratulations! I am so happy for you both." She places a hand on Mary's stomach.

Mary laughs. "Thank you, Jane. Thank you so much."

Later that night, Charlie finds Jane. "They look so happy, don't they?" Jane asks, nodding towards an ecstatic Mary and Bert. She has to smile at the way Bert constantly finds reasons to reach over and touch Mary's stomach, as if he can't quite believe the miracle that's occurred. She smiles lovingly at him.

"They do," Charlie agrees.

"Do you think we'll ever be that happy?" Jane bites her lips.

"I already am, but, yes, I think we will. 'opefully sooner rather than later," he says with a cheeky grin. Jane glares at him playfully and allows him to wrap his arm around her waist.

0ooo0

The second Jane's feet land on the ground, she's off and running towards the house. Knocking on the door, she tries to catch her breath. "Did I miss it?" she asks when Mrs. Corry opens the door.

"No, dear, just in time," she responds and leads the disheveled girl upstairs. Mary is on the bed, her hair slicked back with sweat, a fearful mixture of exhaustion and pain. She smoothes her old nanny's hair and Mary looks up.

"You made it," Mary pants.

Jane grins. "Of course I did. I wouldn't miss it for the world! Now, I think it might be time to get that baby out of you."

"I didn't train you as a midwife," Mary says vaguely.

"Picked it up along the way." Jane looks across the bed to where Bert stands. "I have to say, Bert, I'm impressed you're still here. This is usually women's work."

"I'm not leaving 'er," he replies. "Besides, I think Mary 'ere would kill me."

Mary groans in pain again and Bert winces as she squeezes his hand to help her cope. Tears roll down her face and Bert looks like he'd to anything to help alleviate the pain. He asks Jane if there's anything that can be done.

Jane smiles wryly. "My apologies, Bert. But even the great Mary Poppins doesn't get to escape childbirth. The best I can do is try to make her as comfortable as possible." She smiles and pats his arm. "You're doing great."

0ooo0

Jane hands the beautiful baby girl to her smiling mother. She presses a kiss to Mary's forehead. "I'm so proud of you."

Mary laughs exhaustedly. "I do believe I'm proud of me too." She looks down at the infant nestled in her arms. "Oh, Bert, she's _perfect_."

"Takes after 'er mother, she does," he grins.

Jane starts to leave to give the new family some time alone and to wash up. "This may not be the time to mention it," she says, "but I don't want to wait any longer. Charlie proposed last night and I accepted. I won't be quitting nanny-ing, but we will make it work."

Bert grins and pulls her into a hug. Mary squeezes her hand but can hardly tear her concentration from the bundle in her arms. "Well, I'll be going now," Jane says awkwardly.

There's a knock on the door and Charlie pokes his head in. "Mrs. Corry said it's safe to come in, so…"

"Charlie, lad!" Bert exclaims, embracing the younger man. "Congratulations!"

Charlie looks confused. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?"

Jane laughs sheepishly. "I may have told them the good news. I know we agreed that we wouldn't tell them until after, but I just… I couldn't contain myself."

"Congratulations to you both," Mary says.

Charlie automatically moves to her side. "Cor, Mary, she's beautiful."

Mary looks up and a fiercely protective look rolls over her face. "You are marrying one of the most wonderful young women in this world. If you so much as think about hurting her…"

"You'll answer to me, lad," Bert finishes.

"Well, we really should be going…" Jane says slowly.

"Stay," Mary says. "Please."

"You need your rest," Jane insists, "and to spend time together. I'll be back tomorrow, alright? Come on, Charlie."

"Wait, what's 'er name?" Charlie asks.

Mary looks up with a beautifully content smile. "If there are no objections," she says, looking to her husband and to Jane, "Bert and I were discussing names and we've settled on Catherine Jane."

Tears spring to Jane's eyes. "I… I don't know what to say!"

"Don't then," Bert smiles. "You're family, Jane. You always will be."

"Come on, Charlie," Jane insists, trying to get out of the room without crying with all the love in her heart.

She drags him out, but they turn in the doorway and grin at Bert's long body stretched out next to Mary's petite one, both of them absolutely enthralled by the life they've just created. Mary looks up and smiles knowingly at Jane, her eyes sending a very clear message.

Jane nods back. "I love you too, Mary."

"So…" Charlie says cheekily as they walk outside. "When are we going to get started on _our _family?"

Jane scoffs and hits him in the chest.

_Wind's in the East, there's a mist coming in, like something is brewing, about to begin.  
>Can't put my finger on what lies in store, but I feel what's to happen all happened before.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>So for the last time, I would love to hear your thoughts!<strong>

**-Juli-**


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